


Gods and Masters

by majortom



Series: Currere Sex [6]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Atheism, Canon-Typical Violence, Roman Religion, Van Buren, agnosticism, political machinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-11 21:00:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majortom/pseuds/majortom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing her journey in the Legion, Six learns that respect always comes with strings, and that being in charge isn't as easy as she thought. But there's only one road in sight, and it goes forward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

The night was dark, but clear. The moon was a sliver in the sky, the stars numbering in the thousands. A whippoorwill trilled softly, and the fire crackled.

"Their religion is the key," Vulpes was saying. "If you can find a way to convince them that their gods and our gods are one in the same--"

"I don't know if I can argue that when I don't believe in their gods _or_ our gods."

The Daughters of Hecate. Six's first real assignment as they made their way south down the 95 and the 2nd Road, encountering the deserted city of Santa Ana. The tribe of women lived outside the ruins, building their own adobe structures. Industriousness aside, they were led by a certifiably insane leader who thought herself a goddess. There were about fifty female warriors, who in turn controlled two other, more typical tribes, and also commanded a sect of vicious males called the Hounds. They were currently in conflict with two other groups in the area, and it was her job to assimilate them all.

After a long silence, Vulpes said quietly, "I hope you don't say that to anyone besides myself."

She scoffed. "I know how seriously some in the Legion take that stuff. Really, though, a hundred gods or so, fighting and bickering with each other, messing around with humans. I mean, it's just unbelievable."

Vulpes passed her a can of luke-warm beans and asked, "Is it really more unbelievable than anything else?"

"Yes," Six said. "First off, to read these old stories it sounds like the gods never got tired of coming down to Earth to talk to people. Or kill them. Or rape them and have little half god babies. Why did they stop?"

Vulpes shrugged. "Caesar claims to be son of Mars. Who says they've stopped?"

"Do the gods talk to you, Vulpes?" Six asked, mock concern in her voice. "Do I need to take you to Arcade?"

He poked the fire listlessly.

"She knew she was going to die," he said suddenly. Six didn't say anything. It seemed the conversation was taking a different turn. "I was never, shall we say, devout. I wasn't sure that the Gods cared about the big people, much less the little ones. Slaves. Caesar said he was chosen by Mars, but I believed he only said that to impress the ignorant. Get them to fall in line. I still don't know if that's true or not. But she knew she was going to die. I believe that. I knew she was hiding something."

Six restrained an urge to sigh. Vulpes was always a little confusing, but when he talked about Servillia it was often impossible to follow. It probably wasn't one of the conversations he practiced. Not the words he chose deliberately to manipulate. Though she couldn't be sure of that, either. Vulpes played his games on many levels.

There was nothing for it; she was intrigued either way. She restrained the urge to sigh. "Do you want to tell me the whole story this time?" she asked. Even if it was manipulation, it would probably be at least mostly true. Vulpes didn't lie when the truth served him equally well.

"She had a dream," he began, almost reluctantly. "Carmenta, a goddess of fertility, came to her and told her she was pregnant, and that the child would be a girl. That... the girl, Andromeda, would not be happy living in the Legion. That much Servillia told me." Six tactfully did not say that no girl would ever be happy living the way the Legion usually made them, Servillia most likely included. "But she was keeping something from me," he continued, "I could tell. I did not press her, though. Perhaps I should have. Wouldn't have made a difference. She died, in childbirth."

He jabbed at the fire again. A log fell over and sent a cloud of sparks into the air.

"I learned later that Carmenta is also a goddess of oracles. Everything else, I could have dismissed. She had suspected she was with child. She had a dream about a fertility goddess she learned of through the priestesses. She was fearful of the life her potential daughter would have. But I cannot explain how she knew that she was going to die. In the old myths, Andromeda was sacrificed by her parents. Servillia knew that this time, she would be the sacrifice." He looked over at her and smiled humorlessly. "Hearing it aloud, it does seem weak evidence. I suppose she could have been hiding anything, and dying in childbirth was just a random event. However, I do not think so. What else could the secret have been? I think perhaps the Gods do appear, sometimes, to some people. Maybe the answer is that we don't tell people about it as much as they did back then. And as to Caesar's bloodline, well. I cannot personally attest to that."

Six wasn't sure what to say. She never was. "I'm sorry for your loss," she said, and winced.

"Thank you."

She didn't know if she should ask, but she did anyway. "Did you ever visit your daughter?"

"Yes. Not in some time. It was hard to get away, to be sure I wouldn't be seen. And now we are too far south to make the journey. I haven't seen her since she learned to talk."

"Must be hard. Knowing she's out there and not being with her."

"I suppose." The fire spit out an ember. Vulpes stamped it out. "I wouldn't know what to say to her," he said, with a hint of anger. "The world isn't ready for her yet." Six smiled at him. He glared at her. "Which is why you need to focus on the task at hand. Pacify this tribe, preferably without bloodshed. There are over fifty women already skilled in battle. It is the perfect opportunity for you to build your own numerus."

"Jeeze, you're even more ambitious than I am. I'm already the first female Frumentarius, give me a break, huh?"

"That happened months ago."

"You're never going to be satisfied with my successes, are you? In a few months you'll be sitting next to me, saying, 'I can't believe you aren't in command of a cohors yet, you're shirking your responsibilities...'"

"Once you have a legio of your own I might back off a little," he shot back.

Six smiled at him again, and this time he smiled back, albeit a thin one. She decided not to ask the other question she was pondering. If Vulpes' daughter didn't want to be a warrior, there would be plenty of time to find that out later. No need to upset him again tonight.

"So. Convince them we have the same gods," Six said, trying to turn the conversation away from dead lovers and lost children. "I suppose it wouldn't be too hard in theory. I talked with Arcade on it last time we were at the camp." He raised an eyebrow. Six repressed a smirk. He still got pissy every time she mentioned the doctor. It was a source of great amusement.

"Did you, really."

"Yes. I'm not stupid, you know. It's clear their religion is the only thing holding the bands of tribes together. And apparently Hecate is a Greek goddess. Which is pretty much the same thing as our gods already."

"Hmmph."

"Well, it is. I set Arcade researching what Hecate's Roman counterpart might be. Hopefully he'll have something for me when we arrive tomorrow. Are you done with this?" she asked, gesturing to the fire.

"Yes. If you already had all this in motion, why must you argue with me about it?" he asked, irritated.

"I don't want to do it that way," she answered, putting out the fire. "I would rather convince them to join us through some other argument, but I couldn't think of one. I hoped you would." She sighed. "Seems like the religious angle is the best one, though."

"It certainly is. I don't know why you would even consider using another."

They settled down on their bedrolls on either side of the doused fire and Six stared up at the stars. A long time ago Vulpes tried to show her the patterns that formed the Gods in the heavens, but she never could see them.

\---

The walk was long, the Legion camp being over ten miles out of Santa Ana, but the terrain was mostly flat and easy. When they reached the camp, Vulpes went to deliver a report on the local tribes to Caesar, and Six made her way to see Arcade.

"Welcome back, milady," he said dryly as she entered the tent that functioned both as Arcade's sleeping quarters and a small clinic.

"Hello, Arcade," she said, ignoring his sardonicism. He often said such things now that she was a member of the Frumentarii. "Did you get anywhere on our little research project? And have you been working on your Spanish?"

He gestured to the table, covered in books and notes. "Si, Profesora. Yo soy muy inteligente. I found a little bit on the Greek Hecate, and some references to a Roman Hekate. But there is a goddess called Trivia. I think that one is your best bet. Magic and underworld and all that stuff Hecate was famous for." Six settled into the chair and stared at the table, a little overwhelmed on where to begin. "There are some sketches of her, too. She'll be easier to impersonate if you know what clothes she wears."

"I don't want to impersonate her," she said. "Their leader is the one who calls herself Hecate. I'm just looking into other options for them. They won't give up their religion completely, and why should they?"

"So noble, you are. But how can you gain their trust without lying to them?"

Six sighed. "Yeah. That's always the problem, isn't it."

Arcade gave her a look, but she ignored it.

\---

Six looked up from the text. "What's this word, here, Arcade?" she asked, pointing.

Arcade glanced down. "Dogs."

"So she had dogs with her? I could get a dog."

Arcade rolled his eyes. "No, it says that she was invisible except to dogs. When the dogs barked, that's how you knew she was coming."

Six was disappointed. "I could get one, anyway. Might help."

"I thought you didn't want to impersonate a God," Arcade remarked. She grinned sheepishly. "You just want an excuse to get a dog, don't you?"

"Might help," she said airily, and turned the page.

"The Greek Hecate had dogs," he supplied. "They eventually turned into the Hounds of Hell. I suppose it's logical to think that the Roman Trivia may have had dogs. There aren't so many books on mythology as there used to be."

"The priestesses must have books," Six said.

"Where do you think I got these?" he asked.

She looked up at him, shocked. "They gave you their books? You?"

"Well, no, _your holiness_. Not lowly me. They gave Caesar their books," he said, not meeting her eyes.

Her eyebrows climbed. "You stole books from Caesar to help me with this?"

"No, of course not. I don't steal books from him. I don't need to. I asked him if I could look at the priestesses' books, and he got them for me."

Six marked her page carefully and closed the text. "Arcade. Is there something you want to tell me about your relationship with Caesar?"

"No! Shut up! I knew you would say that. Caesar is fond of me, yes. In the same way you will be fond of your dog. It's nothing like... like _that_ , and frankly it disgusts me to think about it."

"Alright, alright, sorry," she laughed. "I was just teasing."

"Well, don't. I might vomit. And besides, you shouldn't anyway. If he heard that I'm, well... I don't know if his _affection_ runs deep enough to not have me up on a cross."

Six's smile faded and she turned back to the books. She wasn't sure, either.

\---

Remus was a reasonably well trained dog, but when he saw that neither Six nor Vulpes would punish him for getting too far away, he ran back and forth across the desert joyously in front of them.

"Caesar will only give us a little more time. He is still impressed by your ability to communicate with these tribes, but he thinks your desire to focus on the female warriors is both self-indulgent and troubling."

"He said that?"

"He said self-indulgent."

"Even after you told him that the Daughters of Hecate are actually in control of most of the tribes in the area?"

"He is skeptical that that is the case."

Six kicked a rock. Remus, who had been padding his way back to them, was startled and barked at it. She could see why Antony didn't mind parting with him.

"Doesn't matter," she said.

"Why not?"

"I'm going to be their leader in about a week. Then I will be in control of four of the six tribes."

He eyed her askance. "That is a bold statement. And you mean Caesar will be their leader, surely."

It was Six's turn to eye him. "I know you can't speak with them very well, but after all I have told you do you really think the Daughters of Hecate will welcome a man's leadership?"

"Certainly not. But that is what will happen."

"Caesar is the head of the Legion, but you are the leader of the Frumentarii."

Vulpes nodded, conceding the point. "So how did you come up with this new timeline?"

"I did a lot of research last night, and I have a plan. I want to get a little closer to some of the other tribeswomen first, but soon I will kill Hecate and become their new leader." She smiled at him. "That's the problem with revering your leader as a god. If someone comes along and kills them, you're kind of shit out of luck."

Vulpes didn't look convinced. "You researched all night and came up with 'kill their leader'?" He scoffed. "You think it will be that easy? Caesar claims to be God-born, but if someone killed him do you not think that person would be up on a cross the next day?"

"Because Caesar's not an idiot. He has a line of succession. Lanius isn't religious; he wouldn't think that anyone who managed to kill Caesar was worthy of leadership. He'd just see his own power being taken away. Hecate is insane, she doesn't operate that way. She doesn't have a second in command. I think she might actually believe she is immortal."

Vulpes started laughing. He stopped walking and had to hold on to his side.

"What? _What?_ What is so damn funny, Vulpes?" Remus walked back over to them. He whined at Vulpes and started barking. Six could commiserate.

"But she is no match for _you_ , clearly," he finally got out. "The almighty Courier has no fear facing immortal Goddesses."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not religious."

"Indeed," he chuckled. "Such a change from the other day. You were tying yourself in knots looking for a way to not lie to these women. Now you have no problem setting yourself up as a false god."

"That's not what I'm going to do," she said, teeth gritting. "I will show them that the woman they are following _now_ is a false god, because she will be defeated by a _mortal_."

"So why the dog?"

"I think it will make them more comfortable."

"By drawing parallels between yourself and their goddess."

"I suppose if they think I may be _helped_ by their goddess, it will give them more reason to follow me instead of disbanding."

"Only a little lie, then."

Six didn't say anything, just continued walking. Remus loped beside her, glad to be moving again. She didn't want to lie. Lying caused her a lot of trouble in the past. But it was hard to be an honest Frumentarius, she thought ruefully. She couldn't see any other way to ensure the Daughters of Hecate would come willingly to the Legion. All she could really do is deny that she was a god, beat Hecate in a fair fight, and let the Daughters draw their own conclusions.

And hope that her very large little lie didn't come back to bite her on the ass some day.

\---


	2. The False Prophet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Short chapter, sorry. Need to get everything into place. And unless you're fluent in Spanish, you might want to open up Google translate right about now. And just so you're aware, Six is NOT entirely fluent. Any mistakes Six makes are intentional (nothing to do with spelling, so google translate should still work). If you ARE fluent in Spanish, and notice mistakes that are NOT made by Six, please let me know and I will correct it.

 

 

\---

 

Yvana was not a warrior. The best Six could tell, she was an administrator, former midwife. She was important, though, and someone Six wanted to have on her side if things went pear-shaped.

Six silently thanked Raul for teaching her as much Spanish as he did. At the time she thought it was a fun way to pass evenings by the fire. She never thought it would come in handy. She framed it not as a different goddess, but rather the same one in a different language. Lost holy texts, but still all the same people. Which, she reasoned, could almost be the truth. Just the difference of Greek to Roman. She might not even be lying.

Just manipulating. Vulpes taught her well, it seemed.

Yvana read quietly, occasionally reaching down to scratch Remus' ears. It was lucky she had a basis in Latin. Six wouldn't have liked to pull double translation duty. She seemed enthralled. When Six asked if she would show the new texts to Hecate, she hesitated.

"Claro que sí. Ella estará feliz de ver los libros perdidos." She paused. "Quizás... voy a llevarlos a las Hijas Selectas primero." She looked up at her sharply. "En caso de que son falsos."

"Los libros son la verdad," Six said. "Pero sí, vas a las Hijas si queres."

Yvana frowned. Six restrained a smile. Hecate would find out what she was doing eventually, of course. But the longer until that moment, the better.

\---

Everything was going well. As far as she could tell the Daughters were eating up the new books she brought on Trivia and Hecate, and keeping it from their leader. The Daughters came to her with questions that she answered with calm and a bit of mystery, and also a hint of insurrection. Tomorrow she would put the next part of her plan into motion.

\---

It began simply. Six asked Yvana if Hecate had been told about the "lost books" yet. Suggested quietly that she should be made aware that she was preaching an incomplete, nay, _false_ gospel. Six had sown enough rebellion in her teaching of the books that Yvana didn't correct her, just looked nervous.

"No, no puedo hablar con ella. Ella... es peligrosa. Ella me podría matar."

"Pero alguien tengo hablar con ella," she said, purposefully using the wrong word.

Yvana bit her lip. Then asked Six to do it. Six bowed her head in acceptance so Yvana wouldn't see her smile. It may be shady work, but success always felt good.

\---

Six strode into the inner sanctum of Hecate's shrine to herself, Remus at her heels. He growled. Another growl answered him. Smoke permeated the room. A tall pillar dominated the center, and strange assortments of bowls and vials and candles littered the tables and shelves. There was a thick, heavy perfume that made her slightly dizzy. Anyone would go mad if they lived in this, Six thought.

"Hecate! Dónde estás?"

High-pitched giggling was all that replied, and more dogs growling.

"Tu eres una falsa diosa," she said loudly. Some of the Daughters followed her in. She had a brief moment of panic - would they fight her for saying that so bluntly? - but no, they stood mute and simply watched.

Battle of the Gods, Six thought darkly.

"Tu has estado susurrando, poco mortal. Te oí," Hecate called from somewhere in the mist.

"Habla no más mentiras, Hecate, o te matar," Six declared.

More giggling. At her Spanish skills, or simply from insanity, Six didn't know. Hecate emerged from behind the stone pillar. Her face was painted with colors and her clothes looked like layered rags. She didn't look like a fighter. The three dogs that followed her did. Remus barked loudly at them, hackles raised. Six felt grateful to Arcade -- though she had rebuffed his initial suggestion of dressing like Trivia, she had actually made some alterations to her clothes. She definitely looked more sane than Hecate, at any rate, who likely never saw a picture of the goddess she modeled herself on.

"Tú eres la que va a morir, mortal!" Hecate cried, and lunged toward her. Six was very happy at that; she was unsure that her Spanish would have held up for much longer.

Hecate threw off her upper robes. Underneath she wore a form-fitting set of armor and had several long, dangerous looking blades. Six grasped the machete from the holster under her skirt and held it defensively.

Hecate moved like a woman possessed, which, Six admitted, was a remote possibility. For the first time in a long time, she felt unsure of her success in a fight. Before long she had several gashes on her arms, and she had yet to lay a hit on the woman. Remus, the dear thing, was doing much better. He had already put down one of Hecate's dogs, and a second one didn't look long for this world. She was very glad she brought him; she didn't fancy fighting Hecate and three bloodthirsty hounds all at once.

In an attempt to escape Hecate's frantic slashing, Six leaped onto a table, upsetting the candles and vials. She kicked a bowl of powder into Hecate's face. She howled as the grit burned her eyes. Six delivered a kick to her nose and sent her sprawling. Now was a good time for some of her rehearsed lines.

"You lied to your followers!" she yelled, jumping from the table. Hecate tried to scramble backwards, still blinded, while Six slashed out with her machete. "You committed the worst heresy! You are a false prophet and now you will pay for your sins!"

"No!" cried Hecate.

She slit Hecate's throat, and she was still. Remus came padding over to her, panting, muzzle soaked in blood. She scratched his ears. "Good dog."

Six turned around to see the shocked faces of the Daughters of Hecate, before they dropped to their knees and put their foreheads on the ground. She then realized that she said the best bits in English. Damn it, she thought.

\---

All in all, it was a perfect success. Even Vulpes couldn't find fault. Six was revered as the new leader of the Daughters. Tomorrow she would have to go argue her case before Lord Caesar. But that was tomorrow. Tonight, she slept peacefully.

\---

The night was dark. The moon was nearly new, but he could see just fine. He watched the Legion camp through his scope. He hadn't seen the Courier at all since the two of them arrived outside Santa Ana last week. That was just fine. She'd be back. He was patient. And in the meantime, there were plenty of other targets.

\---

 

 


	3. Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Less Spanish in this chapter, but you still will encounter some.

 

 

\---

 

"Just calm down, Six," Vulpes said. He was getting irritated, Six could tell. She couldn't help it.

"We should have left them in Santa Ana. We shouldn't have brought them with us. What if Caesar enslaves them all?"

"He will not.  And furthermore, what would you do if he did? Tell them to run away?" Six chewed her bottom lip. "You are more nervous than I have ever seen you."

"Well, this time it's not just _our_ lives on the line, is it?" she snapped.

Vulpes looked bemused. "Nice to know you value my life," he said.

"You signed up for this. They didn't." He raised an eyebrow at her, but she barely noticed. "I lied to them and manipulated them and if they end up dead or enslaved it's on _my head_ and I _know_ there isn't anything else I can do, I _know_ I'm doing all I can to protect them, so that's why I've _done_ all the things I've done, and I'm not going to go _back_ on any of it now, but it _still_ \--"

"So please, for the love of Mars, shut up, then."

"I know. I _know_ I should shut up. I _know_ this useless babbling isn't doing anyone any good. I _know_ there's only one road in front of me. I _know--_ "

"So help me, Six, I will shoot you in the head if you do not stop talking."

"Doesn't work on me, you know," she said testily.

"It might work if I leave you to rot in this cursed hot desert."

"My apostles would skin you alive."

"They certainly wouldn't. They would revere me as their new god." He smirked at her. "Very fickle, your apostles."

Six ignored this. "What are you going to say to Caesar?"

"I am going to say nothing. This is your mission."

"You're the head of the Frumentarii. I'll make my bid, obviously, but afterward he'll probably send me away and as his trusted advisor it will be your duty to advise."

"And I will. Stop worrying about things you can't control and concentrate on what _you_ are going to say. And then tell me what it is, for Mars' sake, before you say it to Caesar."

\---

A half mile before they reached the Legion camp, they left the Daughters behind. Six put Ruth in charge. Yvana was an administrator, after all, and Ruth was a senior warrior.

She and Vulpes entered Caesar's tent. And of course, as always happened around Caesar, her carefully planned speech didn't make it past her lips.

"I see you have good news, Vulpes, or you wouldn't have brought Six to deliver it," he remarked. Vulpes simply nodded respectfully.

"Er- ave, true to Caesar," Six said.

Caesar waved his hand dismissively. "Alright, tell me. You got the women, didn't you."

"Yes, Lord Caesar."

He raised an eyebrow. "And I'm sure you didn't appeal to their desire to be laundry slaves."

Six floundered. "Ah, well, no. Lord. I didn't use that tactic."

He smirked. "And I'm also sure you didn't convince them to pay homage to the true Caesar, either."

Six swallowed. "They are true followers of the Roman gods, my Lord. After I explained it to them," she added. "They will follow those favored by the Gods. Yourself, of course, as their ultimate authority."

"Indeed. They know this already?"

"Yes. Well," she hedged, "they might need some time, the language barrier and all, but--"

He held up a hand to stop her. He stared hard at her for a long time, then said, "Anyone else, I would accuse them of building up their own loyal army inside of my own."

It took a moment for Six to understand that he really was accusing her of that. "Lord! No, I -- that is not my aim at all! I simply meant to say--"

"I know exactly what you are going to say. Or rather, what you mean. You needed to treat this tribe specially. They wouldn't go for a male leader, so you gave them a female one. You couldn't use force against them, because they are a small group already, and you needed as many strong, able bodied warriors to bring before me in an effort to constitute your own female unit. A few broken, bloodied women would have gone straight to the slave barracks."

She wanted to glare at Vulpes. He was supposed to prepare him. Damn terrible job he did, she thought angrily. And still, he didn't speak up to defend her.  

"Are you going to tell me I'm wrong?" Caesar asked.

Six straightened her posture and said, "No."

He cocked his head to the side, surprised. "No? Indeed. Care to elaborate on that?"

In for a penny, she thought. "Everything you've said is true, my Lord. But I fail to see how any of it is disloyal to you. To acquire new tribes Frumentarii often use tactics such as these in an effort to gain as many well-bodied soldiers as possible. It was only to that end that I have completed the mission this way. Now that we have the Daughters of Hecate, we have the Hounds of Hecate, a tribe of fierce men that are devoted to them. We also have the Maricopa tribe, who number in the hundreds and have much skill with metalwork and pottery. We also have the Papago tribe, who have many fine warriors as well. If we had destroyed the Daughters, we would have none of them. It will be an exceptional advantage to have them, who know the local area, when we engage the Lipan and the Tarahuma."

Caesar considered this. "Quite a boon, if what you say is true. All these tribes are set to join us?"

"Emissaries have been sent. The former leaders of the Daughters assure me that they follow them in everything."

"That remains to be seen. I doubt so many people are so loyal to a band of women." He paused. "But if they are even simply allies, they would not take kindly to the destruction of the tribe."

"Nor, Lord, to their enslavement," she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she bowed her head. "I admit," he said, "that I am curious to see the strength of these women. I have never encountered such a tribe." He paused again. Six didn't look up. "After all, it wouldn't be the first time I was surprised by a woman," he said quietly. He clapped his hands together suddenly. "This is what we will do. Fifty of my strongest legionaries against your women. If twenty-five or more remain, I will give them to you to train. On a probationary basis. If they don't seem to be as extraordinary as Vulpes made them out to be, or the other tribes abandon them, or if having them causes any trouble in my camp, it will be your responsibility."

Six fought the urge to smile madly at him. "Sic, Lord Caesar."

"Now leave us." Six turned and walked toward the door immediately. "Vulpes, I need to draw your attention to a different matter. Somewhere nearby..."

\---

She explained, with Arcade's help, that a final test remained before the Daughters' inclusion. They weren't well pleased until Yvana stood and said, "Estos son los elegidos por las Diosas! Debemos ser muy afortunados de probarnos a nosotros mismos con Ella!" and Ruth joined her, shouting, "Debemos tener miedo? Este es nuestro derecho de nacimiento!" Six wasn't entirely sure what they said, but the rest of them cheered and shouted and there were no more complaints.

She consulted with Arcade, and pulled Yvana to the side. "Tu no es una luchador. Tu puede mantenerse a salvo de la batalla."

Yvana smiled at her, but shook her head. "Gracias. Pero si tengo que ser un mártir, bueno, está escrito."

She walked away. Six sighed. Yvana was easily the most educated. She didn't want to lose her. But she did admire her spirit. Six pointed out Ruth to Arcade and said, "Tell her to keep Yvana safe."

She walked back to her tent to consult with Vulpes on the matter of the other tribes.

\---

The next morning dawned bright and, as always, hot. It was the day of the battle.

She went down to the edge of the Legion camp, where her Spartans were staying. Ruth already had them up and ready, and at Six's arrival had them gather for her.

"Gracias, amica," she said. "Así," she shouted. "Qué puedo decir? Estás listos?"

A triumphant roar went up from the warriors. Six smiled.

They lined up in the desert. The Legionaries, a good distance away, were doing the same. Fifteen across, three deep, five extra front and center. Six had hers get in a line seven across, seven deep, with Yvana stuck in the middle. Ruth nodded her approval from the front row.

Otho fired a shot, and the two forces ran at each other.

As she predicted, the male forces easily surrounded the Spartans, cutting down their effectiveness as half her soldiers were trapped behind their comrades. But as long as the Spartans could hold their line, it should minimize the female casualties. They may have equal sized forces, but this battle must be fought as if they were vastly outnumbered. It wasn't enough to win. She had to win at a high margin, or they might as well all die today.

Six watched with numbed horror every time she saw a woman go down. Another life on her conscience. But even Arcade couldn't fault her actions today. Small steps toward equality.

\---

Twenty-one. Twenty-one of her Spartans died.

\---

"If you don't want to kill her, why are we here?"

"I do want to kill her. Not yet. Why do you care? There are plenty of men in red to shoot."

There was silence for a minute.

"That was weird, what they did today. Bunch of men fighting a bunch of women. Women won, too."

"You helped."

The first man shrugged. "Seemed like a good opportunity to put some Legion down."

The second man didn't respond. 


	4. Trivia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Less and less Spanish as we go along. Also. Graphic death below. It's bad. It's sad. Be prepared for the feels.

 

 

\---

 

Six was teaching them English ("La Lengua Sagrada," they called it, ever since they heard her shout it at Hecate before she killed her), but it was a slow process, even with Arcade helping. 

"Who controla la cría?" asked Yvana.

"Who controls the what?" Six asked.

"Por los niños?"

"What? The children? The Priestesses." She turned to Arcade. "I don't know the word for 'priestess'," she said.

"I don't think that's what she's asking," he replied with a smirk.

"Um. El sexo. Por los niños," Yvana said again.

"What, like breeding?" she asked, startled. Arcade laughed. A number of things about their society suddenly made sense to Six.

"Ah. Um. Me. I control. Is very important. Only me. Solomente yo."

Yvana nodded.

"También, if any man tries tener sexo contigo, matalo," Six said loudly.

Ruth laughed. "Claro que sí."

She smiled and turned to Arcade. "Keep working with them on their English, alright? I have some things to check on."

"I do have a life, you know," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "Do you?" she asked teasingly.

His smile turned to a sneer. "Well, now that you put it that way, _master_ , your wish is my command."

She sighed and said quietly, "You know, by now I bet Caesar would make you a member of the Legion. If you'd just--"

"Thank you for your advice, Six Inculta," he bit out, "but I'd rather die. Run along. I'll teach your new disciples how to speak the holy language."

Six reached out toward him, but he turned and walked away.

\---

_The Daughters of Hecate still await your response. You have pledged to serve the Goddess with your life, and your absence is noted. The Maricopa and Papago tribes still stand with us. Send a response with this messenger and prepare yourself for travel. We march on the Lipan in two weeks._

~~_Six_ ~~

~~_Six Inculta_ ~~

~~_Yvana_ ~~

~~_Trivia_ ~~

__

Six was working on translating her missive to the Hounds of Hecate when Vulpes entered. She was about to ask what name or title she should use, because 'Six' didn't seem very impressive when their last boss was a self-proclaimed Goddess. She was forestalled by the unmistakable sound of a rifle being fired at some distance. Not an uncommon noise around a military camp (there were always patrols keeping the radscorpions away, which suited Six just fine; she was allergic to antivenom), but this one was accompanied by a heavy thump directly outside the tent. Vulpes pulled his 9mm and Six grabbed her 12.7 from the table.

They crouched on either side of the doorway of the tent. Vulpes pushed the flap open a few inches with his weapon and surveyed the area. When he was done, Six did the same on the other side.

They carefully exited the tent. Six checked the man on the ground while Vulpes kept watch. The legionary was dead.

"It was a sniper. The tribe to the south has better firepower, do you think it's--"

"It is useless to speculate on who the culprit is," he said, cutting her off. "That shot was far off, and he put it directly between the eyes. I think..." he looked around at Six and dropped his gun to his side. "I think if the sniper was going to kill us, he would have already. He is probably already moving so we can't track his location."

Six didn't stand, but she did holster her weapon. It wouldn't help her against a sniper. "We should inform Atticus. He needs to up the patrols around the camp."

"It's already been done. This is not the first time the sniper has struck. I will tell Atticus that it isn't enough; however I doubt anything aside from building ten foot walls would be."

She looked back down at the legionary. He was just a recruit, on his way to the mess tent or the latrine. Never saw the end of his life approaching. She wondered if it was better or worse that way. She looked out at the dark, empty desert and shivered.

\---

Six's mornings were filled with English lessons. Arcade didn't come anymore. Caesar had sent two other Legionaries that spoke Spanish to help her, and also dispatched a few more to teach the other tribes that were assimilating. It was very tiring. At least it meant that by the time afternoon drills arrived, everyone was ready to stop repeating phrases and start hitting each other with machetes for a while.

The Hounds of Hecate had still not sent a response, and what was even more worrying was that the messenger hadn't returned. Six consulted Yvana, who suggested the two go in person to speak with them. Caesar agreed, but sent a chaperone in the form of a Frumentarius named Alerio. Six selected two more Spartans, leaving Ruth in charge of running the drills. And she brought Remus. Ever since he helped her defeat Hecate and her hounds she never let him get too far from her.

The trip was long. The Hounds stayed on the other side of Santa Ana. It was a boring trip without Vulpes, though she supposed that was a good thing. Yvana was picking up on English quickly and it wouldn't do to have her overhear the kinds of disrespectful conversations they usually had.

When they finally reached the Hounds' homestead it was past sunset. They didn't see the smoke until they were almost on top of it.

The flames had long since burned down, but the charred remains of the buildings still smoldered. One of the women became very distressed. Six quickly pulled them all aside.

"Do not let your emotions get the better of you," she said quickly. Yvana translated in a whisper, apparently thinking the woman was too distraught for English. "Be strong. We will find revenge for this act."

The woman tried to pull herself together. Yvana leaned over to Six. "It is Merrin. Her mate was a Hound."

"I guessed as much. But she needs to handle it," she said, sparing a small glance toward Alerio. He was watching with an amused expression. "We cannot show weakness in front of men."

Yvana looked over at Alerio so obviously Six wanted to roll her eyes. Finally, she nodded, and went to go speak to the woman. Six walked over to Alerio.

"Hard as steel killing machines until their boyfriends bite it. Can't say I'm surprised," he commented.

Six didn't punch him in the face. "Looks a few days old. I think we can assume our messenger got caught up in it, though I doubt there's anything left of him to find."

Merrin came up to them. There were still tear marks on her face, but her expression was hard. "Lipans. Lipans did this." She pointed to one remaining wall of a building, where a symbol was painted in what looked like blood. Handprints forming a large X. "We kill them," she finished.

"We will," Six assured her. The Lipans wouldn't come without a fight, so there was no chance that was a lie. "We will."

They hunkered down in an abandoned building half a mile from the site and waited for morning. When it dawned, Merrin was sitting next to Six, staring at her as she woke. It was an uncomfortable way to wake, but it was made even more so when she said, "Lo creo, Trivia. Creo en ti."

\---

Remus bounded in front, oblivious to the dejected air of the group. For his playful nature, he sure was a good fighter. They would often lose sight of him for twenty minutes, then come across a dead radscorpion or giant rat, and he would have a little more blood on his face.  Six smiled and scratched him behind the ears. She didn't know why more people didn't have dogs. Perhaps it would be too much to feed them all.

She reported to Caesar with the information that the Hounds of Hecate were destroyed by a southern tribe. To her surprise, he didn't blame her for it. He took it as read that the Hounds were as good as assimilated and a crime against them was a crime against the Legion. They would be pressing south, soon. First the bloodthirsty Lipans, and on to the next.

\---

Six valiantly did not put her head down on the table and start snoring. She fought hard to be involved in these meetings; it put her Spartans on an equal footing with the Frumentarii and Praetorians. She was equal to Vulpes Inculta and Lucius. And after the first couple times, fuck, it was it boring.

Provisionally equal, anyway. Her Spartans were still technically on probation, but it was looking good in all directions. The satellite tribes had fallen in line, with the exception of the one that had been slaughtered, and after the battle where they had defeated male legionaries at a margin of almost three to one the other soldiers didn't fuck with them.

Report after report after report. What did she care about the rice levels in the kitchen? She blinked. She was now responsible for feeding thirty people. Maybe she _should_ pay attention to the rice levels. Come to think of it, who had been making sure her Spartans had food? She glanced over at Vulpes, who raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. Bastard. He had probably been waiting to do that for the last four meetings.

"And now on to my favorite topic," Caesar said. "How is this sniper still at large? Can you tell me, Atticus? Aurelius of Phoenix wouldn't have let this continue for so long. Perhaps I should call him from New Vegas to take your place."

"I am raising the number of random patrols, Lord Caesar. He will not evade us for long."

"That's what you said last time. Perhaps we don't need more random patrols, but planned ones. I don't care if you have to get every Legionary to stand in a line and walk the desert, he will be found. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lord Caesar."

"Last order of business. Vulpes, I want you to get a full report from the men we've acquired as to the location, geography, munitions, all that stuff, of the Lipans. You know the drill. We have three weeks before we reach their main territory. Find out if they will stay there or come to meet us."

"Yes, Caesar."

Six was about to protest but had to turn it into a cough when he said, "You get one, too, Six."

"Yes, Lord."

\---

Six bumped her shoulder into Vulpes' as they walked from the tent. He started away from her, and she laughed. "Thanks," she said.

"For?"

"Keeping my people fed," she answered.

"Indeed. I knew you wouldn't think of it right away. You had a lot on your plate. Unlike your Spartans."

"Was that a pun? Vulpes, you shock me."

"I am a man of many talents," he said dryly. "Now that you are aware, I will show you the requisite forms and I shall never do it again."

Six sniffed. "Now I kind of wish I never realized they needed food."

She could see Vulpes fighting a laugh.

\---

Six woke up early that morning with a full bladder. Remus followed her as she walked to the latrine. It seemed he was as attached to her as she was to him. He jumped around her, happy as always to be outside and moving. She laughed.

Suddenly Remus yelped and cried, falling to the ground. She dropped down immediately and crawled to him. His legs were jerking violently. She tried her best to hold his head at her awkward angle, to hold his body still. After a few seconds, the flailing calmed. She could see his entrails falling out of his shattered ribcage. There was no stimpak in the world that could fix that, even if she had one on her. Remus started to whine. Not a friendly whine. Or an I'm-hungry whine. Or an I-need-to-go-outside whine. Or even a hurt-paw whine. It seemed to go on forever, that desperate, helpless noise. His eyes seemed to plead to her, but she didn't know what they were asking for. To fix it, to not leave him alone, or to simply make the pain end. Just when Six was cursing the fact that she left her machete in the tent, thinking she would have to break his neck to put him out of his misery, the whine stopped.

\---

"This isn't enough."

"You wanted to kill her. Then you didn't. Now it's not enough. Let's kill her, then."

"No. It wouldn't be enough. We must destroy them. All of them."

"Hmm. Sounds good. How?"

"Those markings by the fire site. Another tribe did that. We should find them. Before they do."

A sigh.

"Alright. Good a plan as any, I suppose."

\---


	5. Gotta Shoot 'Em in the Head

 

Six was nearing the point at which she would start screaming at Vulpes. He didn't care. It didn't surprise her that he didn't care. Frankly, she was surprised that she cared so much. He was just a dog, after all. She only had him for a few weeks.

"He killed the dog; he didn't kill you. That tells us something."

Remus had probably saved her life. She would have had an extremely challenging fight against Hecate and her three dogs.

"It suggests that the sniper has some knowledge of Legion custom, but it is outdated. However, that hypothesis still leaves questions. You don't look like a slave. From a distance you would look more like a Legionary than a woman."

He was a happy dog. She took him from Antony, and he was happier with her. It was still her fault he was dead. He wouldn't have been there to shoot if she had left him alone.

"We already know the sniper is a crack shot. Therefore we must assume that he wanted to kill the dog, and not you. We could further assume that his eyes are good enough to see that you are, in fact, a woman in Legion clothing, and not a man. He would have been able to see your long hair and likely the curves of your body since you were not wearing armor. It could be that simple."

Chivalrous sniper, she thought humorlessly. Won't kill a woman, but has no problem killing a dog.

"But it is not the first time he has shot toward this tent. A warning? For me? For you?"

Was there a better way to warn somebody than to shoot them in the head? Six didn't think so.

"Would you _listen?_ This sniper is targeting one of us--"

"Whatever, Vulpes. It doesn't matter."

"It was just a dog! Would you focus on what is important?" he shouted.

"What do you want, Vulpes? Do you want to write out a list of our enemies?" she snapped. "Between the two of us, I don't know if there's enough paper in this camp." She sighed. "He's just a dog. I get it. I know it's irrational. But I'm going to go ahead and be sad about it for a while, so get over it. As for the sniper, I _am_ focusing. I just don't see what we should do. We're breaking camp today, anyway, so by tomorrow he'll have to find us again while we're on the move. That's the best thing possible. And you said he was shooting people here while we were out of camp, so he's not only after us. He's an opportunist as well. Leaving and travelling on our own won't make anyone safer. What else? Am I missing something of practical value that we need to do right now?"

He gave her a hard look. "Someone is targeting us, but not killing us. They want us to be scared. To suffer. I think that deserves a conversation."

"And I think the fact that my dog was killed deserves a little sympathy from you. I guess neither of us get what we want."

They sat in silence for a while. Six caved, like she always did. "We should split up. Then we'll find out who they're targeting."

"No," Vulpes said immediately.

"Why not? It's a good idea."

He didn't look at her. Finally he said, "I suppose it is."

Yeah, she really wanted to scream.

\---

The camp had stood 10 miles outside Santa Ana for over a month, but it was broken down in less than twelve hours. That night everyone laid on bedrolls under the stars. Moving out in the morning. Six slept with her Spartans. No one was shot.

\---

Yvana walked next to Six. She practiced wrist movements with a machete as Six drilled her on English vocabulary. She was coming along very nicely. Six looked forward to the day that she could delegate some of the mundane admin work, such as food requisition and camp arrangements.

Ruth ran up to them from behind. She looked worriedly at Six, then began speaking rapidly to Yvana, who nodded repeatedly as her expression grew darker.

"She says Jonas believes herself to be with child," Yvana whispered.

It was all Six could do to keep walking with a straight face instead of stomping her foot on the ground like a child and yelling, 'Fuck, _why_ , God damn it, stupid, fucking, give me a _break!_ '

She took a deep breath through her nose and said only, "Thank you for informing me."

What the hell was she supposed to do about _that_?

\---

Vulpes' suggestion was to give her to the slave master and be done with it. He pointed out that becoming a slave was a good deterrent for the other women. While a part of her really enjoyed the idea of making Jonas someone else's problem, she couldn't stomach it.

She needed Arcade.

\---

A camp on the move was not a good place to have a private conversation with Caesar's favorite Profligate. She sent a message that evening saying a Spartan had been injured in sparring practice, which returned a reply from Caesar that _not every Legionary gets special treatment for their scrapes and bruises._ The next night she went personally to Arcade's area with the excuse that she wanted to talk about the priestess' books on Trivia, but found Caesar still there and after three hours discussing the finer points of Roman religion with no sign of him leaving for bed she gave up. She lay on her bedroll that night for hours, worrying and imagining worse and worse scenarios, and was acutely aware that once morning came it would be going on three days since she had been told, and she still had no direction for her subordinates.

She stood and quickly dressed, walking quietly through the sleeping camp. She reached Arcade's pop-tent and discretely crouched inside. Caesar's tent was near, and there were always Praetorians on guard.

She knelt down next to his bedroll.

"Arcade," she whispered.

He mumbled in his sleep. Six suddenly realized exactly how bad of an idea this was.

But then again, she was already here.

_"Arcade!"_ she hissed.

"Six, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Shh. I need to talk to you."

"Seriously? Go away." He threw his arm over his face and turned away from her.

"It's _important_."

"Don't care," he mumbled.

She bit her lip. "A woman's life might hang in the balance," she tried.

After a moment he let out a long-suffering, irritated sigh, and sat up.

"It better not be _your_ life that hangs in the balance. Because if it is, I'm going back to sleep," he said. She smiled at him. He glared at her.

"One of my Spartans," she whispered. "She's pregnant."

"Pregnancy is often not life-threatening, you know," he replied. "The priestesses are actually relatively skilled for not having modern medicine."

"It's not that," she said. "No one knows she's pregnant yet. I don't know what to do about it."

"So her life hangs in the balance in the more metaphorical context of negatively affecting your image," he said dryly.

"It stops being a metaphor if Caesar finds out before I have a plan and he sends her to the slave barracks."

It was dark, so she couldn't tell if his expression was more patronizing or angry. "Suddenly you have an aversion to sending people into slavery, huh."

"Come on, Arcade. Now is not the time to be... whatever. Pissy. You know you want to tell me what to do. I want to do what you tell me to do. So just tell me what to do!"

He looked at her blankly. "Pissy," he said.

She groaned. "Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean it like that--"

"The moan of frustration really detracts from the sincerity of your apology."

"Well, I don't exactly have a lot of time here. I've been trying to talk to you for days. I need to tell them something soon. I'm supposed to be their leader."

"Not a very good one. Maybe you shouldn't be in charge of people."

"We don't have time! Next time we talk I will listen to every single one of your arguments on why I am an awful, terrible person and I should be put down. Right now I need your _help!_ "

"Calm down, alright? You're going to wake up the whole camp. I'll just give you the summarized version. You have your women now, good. It's progress. But what do you do as soon as you get them? You support them with slave labor. The women from the other tribes are slaves now. Your Spartans' food is cooked by slaves. Their clothes are washed by slaves. Their water is delivered by slaves. That is not a precedent you should have set. And now you come to me in the middle of the night, haunted by the possibility that one of your precious girls _might_ become a slave. Me, someone you sold into slavery. You sure are selective when it comes to who deserves freedom."

She gaped at him for a moment. "You want me to fix everything about this society right fucking now? I think I've done pretty well, actually, and I have quite enough to be going on with at the moment, if you'd care to think about it. I'm trying to do the right thing and keep this woman out of the slave pen and you're on my case about all the ones I haven't saved yet? Am I responsible for everyone in the fucking Mojave? And! I've already apologized to you!" she whispered fiercely.

"I'll make you a deal. You think long and hard about what I said, and I'll think of a way to help your woman."

"Right, fine, good," Six said. "But it has to be soon. I need to get this solved."

"You're not going to think about it, are you?" he asked.

She glared at him. "Of course I'm going to think about it. Everything you've ever said to me runs around in circles in my brain every night until I feel so horrible that I want to kill myself."

"Thanks for the sarcasm."

She moved over to the edge of the pop tent and checked the camp outside for movement. She looked back over her shoulder at Arcade. "It wasn't," she said, and left.

\---

The man was tall and thin, but muscular, with skin the color of wet clay. His hair was braided and he wore clothing like woven blankets despite the heat. He had a sawed-off shotgun on his thigh and an obsidian knife in his hand.

"What is your purpose here?" he asked. His speech was heavily accented and difficult to understand.

"Travelling," one man replied.

"You do not wear the clothes of the _extranjero_."

"The men in red?" he asked. "No. We look for safety from them."

The tall man nodded. "They come to claim lands. They will not claim ours. I am Etal. What is your names?"

"I am Seven," he said. He turned to his partner, who had been quiet.

The man shrugged. "I'm Eight," he said shortly.

Etal nodded. "You know of these RedMen?"

Seven smiled. "Yes," he said. "We know a lot about them."

\---


	6. Lover's Tiff

 

\---

 

Etal walked fast, but talked slowly. "The Red Men have taken hundreds already. They must be fearsome. The Daughters of Hecate and those they control are not strangers to war, but they did not fight."

"They were lied to," Seven said. "The Legion -- the Red Men -- they use lies and trickery. When that doesn't work, they use war."

Etal nodded. "It will be war, then. We knew as much. The Lipans came to the Hounds in the night and slaughtered them, but the Red Men are many. They will fall. And then it will be only us."

Seven frowned. "So you're not from the tribe that burned the Hounds?"

"No," said Etal. "I am Tarahumara. We live to the south. Hundred miles."

Eight whistled. Seven asked, "A hundred miles? What are you doing all the way up here?"

Etal smiled. "Hundred miles not so far for Tara people. We run."

"That's a long way to run," Seven said. Etal shrugged. "If the Lipans are too small to fight the Legion, the Tara should join with them."

Etal nodded sadly. "I, too, think this. But I am, what you call, courier. Messenger for the north. I speak languages. I see things. But Tara and Lipan have been at war for generations untold."

"It might be your only chance," said Seven. "There is a thousand Legion men, and they do not give up."

"Perhaps it is time," he agreed. "I will return to my lands and speak with the elders of my tribe. I will have to leave you here. Continue along this road, but when it curves, go south by the sun. This will keep you from Lipan lands. I cannot guarantee your safety there."

Eight spoke suddenly. "You want us to walk a hundred miles to meet you?"

"There is no shelter to take for many miles that the Lipans do not know of, and you are as likely to be attacked while sitting as while walking," he said with a smile. "I watch the North. I will be back in a few days. And if I am not, you will be at least further from the Red Men."

He bowed his head to them and, without any more words, took off running.

"He can't run two hundred miles in a few days," said Eight.

Seven smiled. "He'll be back."

\---

"Six, stay. I want to talk about your report."

She was only a little nervous as everyone else left the tent. Vulpes had looked over her report before she turned it in, so there couldn't be any problems with it.

When he told the Praetorians to leave, she couldn't help tensing.

"Relax, Six, I'm not going to kill you. If I wanted that, I would have kept the muscle." He eyed her. "There are some things even they don't need to hear."

She bowed her head and waited.

"So. What the hell is going on with you and Arcade?"

"I... I don't understand--"

"Because to me, it looks like a lover's tiff.'

She gaped at him. "Arcade? I don't, that's not even--"

"Let me lay out the facts, shall I? You travelled with him in the past. You spent a lot of time together in New Vegas after the occupation. You often find excuses to visit him. Then, he asks me to be removed from English duty to your Spartans because it takes up too much of his time. He complains that you overuse his services as a doctor. And _then_ , you are seen sneaking into his tent in the middle of the night and remaining there for some time. _Now,_ Arcade says he must hand-deliver some religious texts to you today. The conclusion suggests itself. So I ask you," he continued, as Six's eyes grew to the size of tin plates, "what should I do about this? As you are now a member of the Legion, it is not my _modus operandi_ to tell you which slaves to consort with. Being fair, I recognize that Arcade is the only male slave in this camp. But you understand that your position in the Legion, indeed all positions, are contingent on not causing discord in my society."

"I'm not... _consorting_ with Arcade, Lord Caesar. The very idea is laughable."

"Not from where I'm sitting."

"Do you think that if Arcade and I were, that we had been _together,_ my giving him into slavery would not have been more cause for argument?" She paused. "While I'm sure he is always entirely respectful to you, I can't imagine that he wouldn't have spoken his feelings on the subject."

He scoffed. "I do not expect matters of the heart to be rational. Many in the Legion know no other way of life than war, and have not seen firsthand the stupid decisions young people in love can make."

"We're not -- have you talked to Arcade about this?" she asked.

"I have. Though I don't think I will tell you what he said. I prefer to hear whatever story you come up with."

Six thought frantically. It all came down to whether or not Arcade told him about the pregnancy. Everything else could wait. How far would Arcade go to protect her? Not very far, she thought. How far would he go to protect a woman he'd never met, and her unborn child?

"It is true I spend time with him. But I would point out, with all due respect my Lord Caesar, that you do as well. He is intelligent, and his knowledge on many subjects, including our Gods, is among the highest in the camp."

"So that's it, is it? You sneak into his tent in the middle of the night to discuss religion?"

"One of my Spartans had questions on religious matters. I tried to talk to him during normal hours." But apparently, he'd been avoiding her.

"And yet you came and joined us in a religious conversation for many hours last night and didn't mention your woman's question. Stop trying to hide whatever you're hiding. If you are fucking him, it's hardly the end of the world. I won't tell Vulpes. Just as I wouldn't tell you if he was fucking slaves and wanted to keep it quiet. I would simply tell you to stop, because it is causing me headache."

What did Arcade say to him? She doubted it was the truth. For all he hated her, it wasn't about her. It was about an innocent pregnant woman and her freedom. But would he have taken hold of this convenient lie? She honestly didn't know.

"My Lord, I didn't speak her problems in front of you because I didn't want you to think there was any weakness in my Spartans." He raised an eyebrow at her. "And if there _were_ anything going on between Arcade and myself," she said carefully, "it would end immediately, and all interactions would be restricted to the daytime hours."

He smirked at her. That was fine. Let him think he was right; hopefully by the time Jonas' pregnancy came out he wouldn't connect it to this conversation.

\---

Arcade arrived shortly after they broke camp. Apparently Caesar wasn't that upset about their _affair._ He dumped some books into her arms, causing her to struggle as she walked.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"I live to serve," he said.

She handed the books off to Yvana and waved her away.

"I take it you have an idea?" she asked.

"What would you do without me," he said airily. Her lip curled, but she didn't respond. "Yes, I have some ideas. They are going to be difficult, but most things are if you want to do them right. And you want to do this right, I'm sure."

"Yes," she said with a tight-lipped smile.

"If you're trying to grow your Spartans into a fully-fledged, new Legion custom, which you are, you're going to have to be in control of your own pregnancies and births. Which means, first, you need to figure out what to do with pregnant women."

"Yes, I thought _figuring out what to do_ was a fantastic plan. Anything else?"

"Touchy. Are you still upset about our break up?"

"You told him that, too?"

"His mind was made up. He wouldn't have believed anything else."

"At least I have a built in excuse to come bother you next time you start avoiding me."

He ignored that. "This is, at heart, a fighting force, you so don't want all your women getting pregnant. So there must be some kind of negative association. But you don't want to give them to the slavemasters, either. My solution solves three problems, actually. The pregnant women, to both punish them and keep them safe, become the new support staff. Not slaves, but they get a reduced wage. Now you keep your women, discourage unplanned pregnancy, and stop relying on slaves all in one policy."

Six nodded, but said, "I only have one pregnant woman. Is she supposed to do everything?"

Arcade shrugged. "You only have thirty women. You could set the ones who break the rules, or the ones who perform badly during drills, to support tasks in the evening."

"Except no one breaks the rules, and we aren't drilling while we're on the move."

He tsked. "I'm trying to set up a long-standing tradition, and you're nitpicking. You will start drilling again, and eventually people will break the rules. As for now, it wouldn't be too much to have her cook meals and at least help with the laundry. When the baby is born, there should be a big celebration, though, to distinguish those who perform badly from those who were pregnant. We want to discourage pregnancy, not demonize it."

"That could work," she agreed.

"Of course it would. I have thought about this, you know. The more difficult part comes after the baby is born. If it's a boy, you can send him to the instructors when he is old enough. But if it is a girl, you need to have something in place. You will have to raise them in your own community. Nothing in the Legion is set up to handle raising women who aren't destined for slavery. You will need to have your own instructors." At her worried look, he said, "It won't be that bad. The Daughters of Hecate were midwives originally, weren't they? I'm sure they already have some knowledge of raising children."

Six let out a relieved sigh. "This is why I need you, Arcade. This is exactly what I wanted to do, I just didn't know it until you told me."

"Yes, well, like I said, I live to serve," he said bitterly. "If that's all you require from me at this time, I'll just pop back down in my lamp."

He angled away from her, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back, causing them both to stumble.

"The hell, Six? I solved your problem for you, just--"

"No. I'm not letting you go so you can start avoiding me again. I want to talk to you."

He wrenched his arm from her grasp. "Loathe as I am to admit it, I will always help you when someone's life or freedom is on the line. I can see the bigger picture. But my obligation to humanity definitely stops short of indulging your every whim," he spat.

She stared at him. "What is it, Arcade? I know the whole slavery thing still hurts, I'm not trying to downplay that or anything." He scoffed. "But it's different now. Don't try to say it isn't. Something new is bothering you."

He glared at her, then sighed. "It isn't new. It really isn't. And, knowing that, I know it's illogical of me to be hating you more now than usual. I just got a... confirmation, that's all."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing to worry your little head about. You've got a lot of new things to take care of. You've got your female warriors now. That was your third wish, wasn't it?"

"What are you _talking_ about, Arcade?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, then shook his head. "Nothing."

Suddenly, it clicked into place. She grabbed his arm again and stopped walking. "Arcade," she said. "I can't. Not yet. I don't have that power. Do you want me to secret you into the wild to die of thirst?" She winced. That wasn't the real reason. Not the important one, anyway. And if there was one person she would never speak falsely to again, it was Arcade. "I... I need you. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It's not your fault. No one ever frees the genie."

He walked away, and this time she let him. If he stayed, she would start shouting. Or crying. She took a deep breath.

"Ruth!" she yelled, and started walking again. The woman ran up to her quickly. "I have a mission for you."


	7. Icarus

 

As far as Six could tell, no one was getting shot at anymore. Perhaps the sniper had given up. Perhaps he'd been stung by a radscorpion and died, alone in the wastes.

Perhaps he was planning something. What that might be, Six didn't know. But the quiet outside the camp made her uneasy. They had been travelling almost three weeks, and even the Lipans, the warring tribe in the relatively near area, were nowhere to be seen. She expected skirmishes, not silence.

Yvana was also worried, though not as much as Six. She was in charge of organizing the work force for the Spartans. Six would follow Arcade's advice in spirit as well as letter this time. She discontinued slave use completely, and for now there was a work rota for all chores, as well as Jonas, the pregnant one, who was on permanent mess duty. The women accepted it easily, as they seemed to accept everything she told them. She hoped it was because they agreed with her decisions, and not because they all thought she was a god. The idea bothered her greatly, though she knew Vulpes would say it hardly mattered. At least she had gotten most of them to stop calling her Trivia. To her face, anyway.

She tried to focus on what Yvana was saying, but support logistics were just as boring spoken in her heavy Spanish accent as they were in Caesar's tent.

Speaking of which, she should probably make her way over there. It was almost time for their nightly meeting.

"Is that all, Yvana?"

"Most everything, sir. There is a lack of water in the camp from so much travel. There is a small river on the other side of the hills. Usually Lipans are there, but usually Lipans are in this whole place. We might get water from there."

Six nodded. "Thank you for the information. For now, just wash the clothes less frequently. Once a week."

Yvana bowed her head. "That is what we are doing, sir."

"Good. Well. Good. You're very good at this, Yvana. Use your own judgment, if we need to conserve more."

"Yes, sir."

She forced herself not to shake her head in frustration as she walked away. All she ever wanted to be was a Praetorian. She wasn't cut out for this kind of job. She turned and looked back at her camp. Spartans were moving quickly; setting up pop-tents and readying the evening meal. She felt fear for them, and for herself, leading this change. There was a trickle of pride as well, but it was small these days, and easily overwhelmed.

\---

"Thank you for joining us, Lanius," Caesar said. Lanius wasn't late, he never was, but Caesar always said something cutting to the last person to show up. "Let's get started. I have many things I wish to discuss. But first, a curiosity. Have you decided that your women are slaves, Six?"

"Lord?"

"You've stopped using slaves for support. Does that mean you realize that all women were born to cook and clean?"

She tried to keep all the sarcasm out of the thin-lipped smile she gave him. At his expression, she wasn't entirely successful. Oh, well. Cards on the table. She hated her job anyway. "No, Lord Caesar. I suppose the image of women being slaves to other women made me uncomfortable."

He smirked at her. "Would you rather have some male slaves? Your... _women_ must be lonely."

So he wouldn't tell Vulpes his suspicions about her and Arcade, just tease her mercilessly in front of him. Not that Vulpes would care, but it was the principle of the matter.

"No, Lord Caesar," she said brightly. "Being frank, I would rather there were no slaves at all."

She saw Vulpes' lips harden into a thin line. Everyone looked uneasy. She probably shouldn't have said that.

Caesar started laughing. Big, raucous laughs like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. Maybe she would be able to play it off as a joke. He calmed down enough to say, "Get out, Six."

She froze momentarily. "I didn't, I mean, Lord Caesar, I--"

"Get the fuck out, Courier." He wasn't laughing anymore. She bowed her head and left. She went straight to Vulpes' tent. He would have words for her. Also, she wasn't ready to go back to the Spartans and put her strong leader mask back on yet.

\---

It was hours before he showed up. Six was dozing on his bedroll when she was woken by, "Can't you ever keep your fucking mouth shut?"

He must be angry to curse like that. She rolled over to a seated position. "Uh..."

"Don't answer that. He wanted to disband the Spartans. Accused you of trying to hijack his society. That's not a good thing for him to be saying when that's _exactly what we're doing,_ " he whispered angrily.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "I didn't think--"

"Exactly," he spat. "You never think. You blunder halfway into a bad situation, and you say to yourself, 'Oh, well, I'm already here. Might as well do as much damage as possible!' Is it from your brain trauma, or were you always this incredibly ignorant? It's not even ignorance. Ignorance can be corrected with learning. This is just idiocy." He laughed humorlessly. "Good thing you never went in for gambling in New Vegas. You'd have lost all your money at the poker tables."

She glared at him. "Actually, I'll have you know I was pretty decent at poker. It's called _bluffing_ , and if you remember that strategy is what got me a place in the Frumentarii in the first place. It works more often than you'd like to admit, because _you'd_ rather cower and bide your time until it's too late. Without me you wouldn't have gotten a female force ever. Certainly not in the few short years before your daughter gets too old to be a part of it."

He gave her a murderous look. "Keep those words out of your mouth inside this camp, fool. And what good is any of this if you destroy it as soon as you create it?"

She shrugged. "I said what I believe. I thought it would be right up your alley anyway, what with, you know. Your past and whatnot _._ I mean, it's never going to happen if no one says it."

He ran his hand down the side of his face and sat heavily on the bedroll next to her. "Regardless of what you _think_ you know of my _past_ , abolishing slavery was never a part of our goal. We are nowhere near that. Probably not in our lifetimes, and at least not for a decade or two at the earliest. You are risking the tenuous stability of your female force on a naïve and sophomoric ambition. Your Latin name should be Icarus."

She smiled. His insults didn't bite as hard when they were sitting next to each other, staring off into the same empty space. "I suppose that make you Daedalus?"

"Indeed. Perhaps you should heed my warnings."

"Maybe it isn't part of _your_ goal, but it's definitely part of mine."

He scoffed. "Your profligate boyfriend whispering in your ear again, hmm?"

"Whatever, Vulpes," she said tiredly. "If he fires me, honestly I don't even care--"

"Fire you? Surely you mean 'crucify'. Although he has lit people on fire before--"

"I hate being the leader of the Spartans," she continued. "Most of the time it's incredibly boring. Half the time, it's incredibly frustrating. And it's always, _always_ fucking terrifying."

"You're scared, that's it? Scared little girl--"

"I'm _exhausted_ , Vulpes. You're right. I can barely keep _myself_ out of trouble. Now I'm responsible for the entire lives of thirty women. When they eat. When they sleep. When they _die_. What happens to their _children_. Half of them don't even think I'm human. They expect me to be perfect. Always successful. I make one mistake, if their faith in me is shaken, they would lose it all. And all the future holds is more. More logistics meetings. More women to command. More responsibility to shoulder. There is no end in sight, just constant increases. I'm already tired, Vulpes. One of the only reasons I can handle it now is because I have Arcade's advice to fall back on when I get overwhelmed. But he's not going to be--"

"You shouldn't listen to that profligate, you should listen to me," he snapped.

She sighed. "Yes, it would certainly be easier to give my pregnant women to the slave masters. It would be easier to have the slaves keep doing all the cooking and cleaning. It would be easier to ignore everything about it. But it wouldn't be _right_. Those women deserve to chose for themselves what kind of life they want, not live at the whim of men." She looked at him, but he was still turned away. "I used to think I was special, somehow. I'm not special. I'm... circumstantial. I happened to get the job for the platinum chip. I happened to have access to House. I happened to fall into a position of power. But that doesn't mean I'm more worthy of freedom than any of these other women."

"Some are born great," Vulpes intoned. "Some--"

"Oh, shut up."

The corner of his mouth turned upward in a small smile, but faded quickly. "If your responsibilities now are too great for you, why do you seek to shoulder the burden of even more downtrodden souls?"

She laughed quietly. "Maybe my Latin name should be Atlas."

He looked at her then. "It's a punishment from the gods?" he asked, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"You're right, you know. You're always right when it comes to me. You know me better than I do." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "I'm short-sighted and stupid most of the time. When it comes to controlling myself, I should listen to you. But when it comes to right and wrong, it's Arcade I should listen to. I don't listen to him often enough."

He made an angry noise in the back of his throat. "You don't listen to _me_ often enough. That man is going to run you into the ground with guilt."

"Perhaps I deserve it," she said.

He turned his whole body to face her. "It is better to succeed partially than to fail utterly."

"Sacrifice the perfect for the good. Is it?" she asked quietly.

"No one would have believed you would even get this far--"

"So how do you know we can't go further?" she pressed, invigorated. "I know I complain a lot. I know I said I don't care. It feels good to say it sometimes," she said with a smile. "I'm so frustrated all the time. But I do care. We've already done the impossible, why not do it again? Besides," she added quietly. "Isn't the reason you started on this because you had a daughter born by a slave, into slavery, and you thought it was wrong?"

He didn't answer that question. "There was a time you only wished to be a Praetorian. Now you would burn up every ounce of yourself to right the wrongs he shoulders you with."

She chewed her lip and looked away from him. These next words would be hard, but she needed to speak them, if only to stop them circling her head. "It's not Arcade that burdens me. It's the truth. I'm not sure what changed when I went to the Divide. I didn't get any of my memory back, not really. But it's like... I remembered the roads." She shook her head. "Or at least, the signs. Some of them. I don't know. After I left there, I looked back over my life since waking up in Goodsprings. It was like... like taking off blinders. Like I had tunnel vision, but then I could see properly. See what I was doing, what I did. I only worried about myself. I wanted to be a Praetorian, I didn't care about the women in slavery or the... the ones that were captured," she said quickly. "I didn't care about lying to Arcade and selling him out. Not really. Even Chalk. I felt guilty, but I still..." she fell silent. She never told Vulpes what happened with Chalk, and she wasn't going to. He probably knew, he knew everything, but she still didn't want to talk about it. "Yeah, it's tiring looking out for other people instead of just myself. And I resent it sometimes. Doesn't change what has to be done."

"You sound like Ulysses," he remarked. She shrugged. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "I shouldn't have sent you there."

"Yeah. Perhaps not."

"I thought--"

"It's fine, Vulpes. I didn't mean that. Maybe life would be easier now, without the unseen spectre of my past morality haunting my every decision." She raised her eyebrows jauntily and smiled at him. "But it would be wrong."

His brow furrowed, and he stared at her. She fidgeted uncomfortably. She tried to think of something else to say. She should ask what Caesar told him. The whole conversation would be pointless if she was no longer in charge of the Spartans, but she rather thought he would have said by now if that was the case. She could ask about the sniper, or if they had any intelligence about the Lipans that were supposed to be in the area. Tell him about the water source nearby. She would probably start babbling about anything if he kept staring at her like that.

Right when she opened her mouth to say God knew what, he reached his hand out and pushed her hair back behind her ear. She froze, mouth gaping open, eyebrows up by her hairline. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

He pulled his hand back and turned away. "Nothing."

"Nothing? That was--"

"You were upset. I thought you'd appreciate a token of physical comfort."

"Physical comfort, huh?" she smirked at him. "When have I ever asked you for _that?_ "

"I suppose you're right; you get enough of that from your profligate boyfriends--"

"Are you jealous or something, Vulpes? Come on, now."

She could hear his teeth gritting. "Perhaps you should go to him now. I think I am tired of talking."

She cocked her head to the side. "I already know what he will say."

"Yes," he bit out. "He will tell you to sacrifice yourself for the sake of himself. You think it's a coincidence a slave tells you to free the slaves?"

"You've never had a problem with telling me to do things I didn't want to do for the _greater good_ ," she pointed out.

His head whipped back to her; face full of anger. "When you were following my direction it was what you wanted. You were energized. You had motivation. It didn't lead you to despair."

She scoffed. "Are you forgetting about the Northern Passage? I was tired all the way back then."

"And he asks you to do even more."

"So do you."

He was silent for a while. She wondered if that meant she won. Probably not.

"You will not be able to free the slaves. Not now. Not for a long time. To fight that battle is to lose. I think that's what he wants. Either way, he wins. If you did the impossible and succeeded, he would be free. But more likely you will fail, and he will be just as happy to see you thrown out, dead, or on a cross."

"First he's my lover, now he hates me. Can't be both, Vulpes."

He gave her a smile that made goose bumps rise on her arms. "Of course it can. Don't confuse sex with love, Courier."

"First Caesar, now you. Don't call me that. And I'm not sleeping with him, you know."

He continued to smile that perverse, somewhat threatening smile. Six made a very conscious decision to do something she told herself she would never do again. "You must have practiced that menacing grin on a lot of NCR Rangers," she spat. "It's pretty good."

He laughed as she walked out of the tent. Once she was outside, she heard a rattling and a loud thump, as though something had fallen or been thrown to the ground, but she didn't turn back. Let Vulpes throw a fit. About time he felt some of her frustration. Anyway, she had plans. She hadn't meant to do it so soon, but if things were going sour this might be her last chance.

 


	8. Sacrifices and Slavery

 

It was a bad idea, all things considered, and an even worse one to do it at all. Especially now. But it had to be now. She might not get another chance. Six grimaced. There was nothing for it. She put the finishing touches on her modified stimpack. This wasn't going to be pleasant. She went to wake Ruth.

"It's time," she whispered. Ruth nodded. She left quickly; she slept in her armor. She was good. Six would hate to lose her. She brushed the thought away and went to get Merrin. They were the two, besides Yvana, that she was most sure of in their loyalty to her. There was no one else she could trust.

They waited silently, half a mile from the edge of the Spartan's camp, for Ruth to find them.

Shortly, two figures could be seen running toward them. Arcade was fumbling with his bag, trying to open it on the move. When he reached the two women, he stopped.

"Alright, Six. Clearly the radscorpion sting was a ruse. What's going on?" he asked tiredly.

"This is Ruth, and Merrin," she said, gesturing to them. "They will take you northwest into NCR land-controlled land." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Looks like I get four wishes."

"Are you... are you serious?" he whispered. "They know I'm over here. They'll know it was you."

She shrugged. "I'll tell them you got kidnapped by tribals. I'll even shoot some rounds into the desert, in case they're listening."

"That doesn't make any sense. Even if one of the Spartans was writing in pain due to a radscorpion sting, which she _isn't_ , that story doesn't hold water."

"So what. You'll be long gone by then."

"They'll kill you for this," he said.

That could very possibly be true. She brushed dust from her shoulder. "Doubt it," she said.

He almost laughed, but didn't. He raised his hand to rub his forehead. "You'd take that risk," he said flatly.

She showed him her teeth; the closest she could get to a smile. "Looks like it, huh?" she said brightly. He stared at her for a while, until she grew uncomfortable. "I don't want to be an ungracious host or anything, but time is of the essence, here..."

"What happened to needing me?" he asked.

Six gritted her teeth to stop from yelling. "I do need you," she bit out. "I would like very much for you to stay here and help me every time I ask. But someone once told me that I can't force people to do things just because I want them to."

He kept staring at her with an unreadable expression. "If you're going to go," she said, with as little bitterness as she could, "you better go now. If they show up looking for you in the next twenty minutes or so, we all lose," she said. "Oh," she remembered. "But give me some bandages and alcohol before you do, alright?"

"What?" he asked, nonplussed.

Behind Arcade, she could see two figures approaching them. "Shit," she said, before falling gracelessly onto Ruth, who caught her at the armpits. "What are they doing here already?" While Arcade turned around, she dug the stimpack out of her pocket and jabbed it into her leg, pushing down on the plunger. She handed it to Merrin, who pocketed it. "Remember the story," she said. "Remember what to do." She took her machete and started gouging at the small hole.

Arcade turned back. "What the -- what are you doing?" He wrestled the blade from her hands.

She let him have it; she was finished. "Faking a radscorpion..." she slurred, head dizzy.

"Is that actually -- Six, you're _allergic_ to --"

"I know... s'why it works..."

She closed her eyes. She heard Ruth start speaking quietly, and felt someone's lips on her leg, sucking at her wound, before she lost consciousness.

\---

She woke up on a bedroll, sticky with sweat. Her head was aching and her leg felt like it was on fire. She pulled away the sheet to inspect the damage, but it was wrapped in bandages. They were thick with pus. Some of the veins in her leg were inflamed. It looked bad, but Six knew that if she was going to die, she wouldn't have woken up.

She was alone in a small pop-tent. Her mind was mostly clear, and she was worried. She hoped desperately that Ruth and Merrin had played their parts. She hoped desperately that Arcade was alright. She had taken the risk, and the mission had failed, but if everyone stuck to the story it might turn out alright. Or at least, she might not get crucified for treason. That would be a win at this point.

She ran over the story in her head in case someone came calling soon. She heard gunshots, took Ruth and Merrin with her to investigate. Got caught up by a baby radscorpion in the darkness. Since she was allergic to antivenom, she freaked out and tried to cut the poison out of her with a machete as Ruth ran for the doctor. That way if anyone saw the wound they wouldn't be able to tell it was a needle puncture instead of a radscorpion sting. She grinned ruefully. Whether or not she would be believed hinged on Caesar's willingness to accept that three highly trained female warriors were taken by surprise by common local fauna, and furthermore were unable to kill a small radscorpion in close quarters. After working so hard for the women to be taken seriously, now she had to hope he thought they were all weak and stupid, and she in particular was hysterical. But it had to be done. Even though she failed, she didn't regret trying.

No one came for her. After a couple hours the burning in her thigh receded, and she struggled to her feet. She gingerly tested her weight on her injured leg, and went sprawling to the ground. Of course it would be during that embarrassing moment that Vulpes showed up.

"Those radscorpions," he deadpanned. "Dangerous business."

Ruth and Merrin were behind him, and they rushed forward to help her up as he glared at her with his arms crossed. She tried a bright smile. His expression grew darker.

They didn't speak as they made their way, Merrin burdened by Six's weight on her shoulder, back to the Spartan camp. She settled her onto one of the few chairs in the main tent.

"Leave us," Vulpes barked. Six had to restrain a smile when the two women looked at her first for confirmation.

"You are dismissed," she said, and they left.

He glared at her some more, but whether it was a lingering affect of the poison or because she still felt somehow unburdened by trying to free Arcade, she didn't really care. She wouldn't be flippant, though. Not this time. She knew the peace she felt now wouldn't last, and if Vulpes' expression was anything to go by she wouldn't like what came after.

"Why do I even bother?" he asked rhetorically.

She choked down a sarcastic reply and waited for him to continue.

"Your loyalty was already in question. Specifically because of this sort of thing. Then you try to secret him away. What were you _thinking?_ "

She paused in case he would keep speaking, but he didn't. "I'm sure you already know what I was thinking, Vulpes."

"Damn right, I do. Risking yourself, risking everything for that fucking profligate. Again. Tell me now he has no hold over you."

"I never said he didn't. I just said it wasn't because of a relationship or anything. I was doing the right thing."

"You certainly weren't. The only doctor in the camp. What if someone else needed healing?"

"The Legion was fine before they had Arcade--"

He crouched down and looked her in the eyes. "You nearly killed yourself. Think, for a moment. What's more important. A pissant little doctor getting his freedom, or the leader of the Spartans continuing her work?"

"You can't make me regret it, Vulpes."

He sighed heavily. "Doesn't matter anyway. You're being sent on another suicide mission. All of you. Caesar can't prove you were trying to steal Arcade from him, but he certainly suspects something nefarious happened."

She couldn't help smiling this time. Something nefarious, indeed. "I'm pretty good at suicide missions, you know," she said.

For a moment, Vulpes looked like he wanted to laugh, but he didn't. "That is our hope, once again; that your luck will see you through another stupid decision."

"What must I do?"

He sat on the ground next to her and avoided answering by inspecting her leg. "You should change the bandages soon."

She wanted to say, 'You a doctor, too, now?' but in this mood she didn't think he'd appreciate it. Well, he never appreciated Arcade jokes, but this was _really_ not the time. Instead she replied, "What's the mission, Vulpes?"

He didn't look at her. "You and your Spartans will travel ahead, ostensibly to find where the Lipans have gone. Well, that is relatively true. Caesar does hope that by sending you out it will lure them from their hidey-holes."

She considered this. "But you think it will end in the Lipans' victory over the Spartans."

"Our best intelligence," he said, then scoffed. "Not that we have any, but logically the Lipans couldn't have gained much ground in the two weeks since we've sighted them. But the main theory is they have situated themselves not much further south. The hill range to the southeast. They probably plan to try to ambush us when we get close. That is what I would do if I were fighting a force much bigger than myself."

"So, I get ambushed, the Lipans reveal themselves, and the rest of the Legion swoops in when they are weakened from the first battle."

"That's the plan."

"He assumes we will lose."

"The Lipans are much smaller than the Legion, but they are much larger than the Spartans."

"Haven't you sent any Frumentarii into the hills? Can't you give me anything else to work with?" she asked.

"I have. If you hadn't started spouting off treason in the middle of the meeting you would have heard the report." He looked uncomfortable. "I sent three. None returned. That suggests the enemy is there. I have, however, taken the liberty of drawing up a rough plan you might try. I know you're not good at this sort of thing yet, and I do have experience coordinating many Frumentarii. It might be helpful. As they say, though; no plan survives contact with the enemy."

She nodded. "Any word from our friend the sniper?"

"Damn it, Six!" he shouted. "If you would have just kept doing your job you would know all these things, and furthermore we wouldn't be about to throw away thirty good soldiers for punishment!" She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing. "Well?" he demanded.

"Well? Well what? I made my _terrible_ decisions, and now this is what it is."

"Don't you ever listen to me? You don't have to be a _sacrifice_ for those you feel responsible for," he said angrily.

She gaped at him. "I'm not--" he turned his face away. She struggled onto her knees, ignoring the shooting pain in her thigh and balancing herself with one hand on his leg. He averted his eyes. Her voice softened. "I'm not Servillia."

Instead of the anger she thought would follow that statement, there was an oppressive silence.

"You remind me of her sometimes."

Six swallowed uncomfortably. She thought he would deny it. She wasn't sure if she actually wanted to have this conversation. But then, it might be the last one she ever had with him. Last chance for answers. This is what Vulpes meant, wasn't it; bungling her way further and further into a bad situation.

Oh, well. No point in holding back now.

"I'm not her."

"Of course not. You're not like her. You haven't been."

Six groaned in frustration. "Then what? What does that mean? Why do your conversations always have to be like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like circular nonsense! No, don't change the subject."

"You asked the question."

"Why do I remind you of her if I'm nothing like her?" she demanded. "Answer the question, and when you do, _make sense_."

"Let me say it this way," he began, then stopped for a long moment before speaking again. "She didn't fit in this world," he said quietly. She had to lean in to hear him. "This broken, stinking wasteland could never touch her. She was above it all. She rarely wanted for anything. Only..."

"Only what?"

"Only me, I suppose. That's all she wanted. And only sometimes. Sometimes I think I'm the only thing that saved her. If someone else had laid claim... But sometimes I think she never needed me, or anything. That she was entirely self-contained, or, or ethereal."

He paused. Six felt like she should say something. 'Why would that possibly remind you of me?' was her first thought, but instead she went with, "Sounds lonely."

He glared at her. "It wasn't. She was never -- I was never -- It wasn't." He sighed. "Perhaps I am not articulating myself well."

"Perhaps not," she agreed.

He shot another glare at her, but without any heat. "She was a slave," he said. "She had no respect from anyone save me. She had coarse clothing and ate the lowest food. She was a water-carrier which was no small task. But she was happy. She was always happy. You -- you have more than most in the wasteland. You are near the head of a great society. You are affecting change throughout vast regions. You are never satisfied. You take what the Gods give you and throw it away."

"What is this, how to gain freedom through submission? A lecture on happiness in slavery?"

He looked baffled. "No. Why would you think that?"

"Well, you're telling me I should be more like _her_ \--"

"I certainly am not. You two are so different you might as well be separate species."

Six was a little surprised how hurt she was by that statement. She didn't want to be compared to Vulpes' past love, and yet to hear it put so harshly how she would never measure up was a little upsetting. He looked at her strangely, and she looked away.

"You shouldn't endeavor to be like her. Servillia was empyreal. You are dynamic. Those things are not opposites, but in this case they might as well be. Servillia, for all her grace, would never have brought change to the Legion. She left to protect her daughter, she _died_ to do it, but she would not take action. Perhaps she did find her freedom through submission. And perhaps that is what you are doing now. Not a slave to the Legion, but a slave to your guilt. You would rather cast off your responsibilities in an effort to soothe your conscience. She sacrificed herself for her child. Now you wish to sacrifice yourself for those you feel are your responsibility. But you have opportunities she didn't, even if she'd been inclined to action. Not being like her doesn't make you worse than her. And it certainly doesn't make you less important; she was a slave, after all."

Six glanced at him. "Not to you," she said, and instantly regretted it.

"No, not to me." He smiled at her, a little sadly, she thought. "Do you want to be important to me, Six?"

"I..." She didn't know what to say. She couldn't think of a joke to deflect with. He wasn't being inappropriate, so she couldn't start an argument. It was a real question, wanting a real answer, and it was terrifying. "I think... you're rather egotistical... if you think..."

"Six," he said softly. His eyes were blue, she realized. She always thought they were grey, but they were actually a faint blue. "Would you just answer the question?"

She couldn't. All this time, work, effort, to get to her position in the Legion. She had to be independent. She had to be strong. She couldn't submit. But what did that matter? It sounded like an old, worn-out excuse now. It was all slipping away from her again, anyway. What was one more bad decision? She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that when the word, "Yes," slipped out of her mouth she barely noticed. But she couldn't miss his hand coming to cup her jaw, or the lips pressed against her wayward ones.

 


	9. Greeks Bearing Gifts

 

Etal walked up to the edge of the river where Seven and Eight were seated. He didn't waste any words.

"The Red Men have sent the Daughters out. They are approaching. If they know where we are, I think three or four days. If they do not, maybe a week until we meet them."

"Just the women?" asked Seven.

Etal nodded. "We have over one hundred Tara arrive already. They bring many weapons. And the Lipans number almost four hundred. Thirty Daughters will be a simple task."

Eight frowned. Seven looked at him. "What do you think?"

"It's a ruse," Eight said. "Has to be. Legion wouldn't do something that stupid." He shrugged. "Then again, never thought Legion would use women in the first place."

"A ruse?" Etal asked. "Try to trick us, you mean?"

Seven nodded. "That is what they do."

"They probably want to get us to show our location," said Eight. "Then come in with the big numbers."

Etal considered this. "My people are ready for a fight."

Eight shrugged again. "Five hundred against about a thousand Legion. Two to one odds. Fight if you want to."

"No," said Seven. "More Tara are coming. We need to wait for them. We cannot have the Legion find us yet. When will the rest arrive?" He asked Etal.

The tribal thought for a moment. "Four hundred more Tara? Little more than a week. Some run faster than others."

"Then we have time. We should capture the women, try to keep out of the Legion's line of sight, and wait for the rest," Seven said forcefully.

"Dunno 'bout that," Eight said. "They're probably watching them closely."

"It is our only option. We won't beat them with half their numbers."

Eight shrugged a third time. Seven rolled his eyes.

"I will speak with the Elders of the Lipans. I think they will want to fight, but I see the wisdom in waiting." Etal put his hands together in front of his chest, a sign of respect in his culture, then walked toward the main cave.

Eight raised his eyebrow at Seven. "Is this about beating the Legion or capturing your Courier?"

Seven made an irritated noise. "It is a better plan for them than fighting twice their number. And what does it matter to you? In a week or so, there will be plenty of Legion to kill."

Seven smiled wide. Eight grunted, but didn't speak. A plan was in motion. Seven didn't doubt that Six would survive the capture. If she could kill Joshua, she could survive anything.

\---

Six didn't think about Vulpes as she led her Spartans to their deaths.

She really didn't.

The plan he gave her was basic, but it had to be. Without any of his Fumentarii returning, he had no knowledge of the area beyond the hills. Luckily, her Spartans did. She worked up a plan to go due east, then send her own scouts south. She didn't know what else to do. They needed information.

They also needed water, as Yvana never tired of telling her.

She tried not to show weakness in front of her Spartans, but her leg wound was not healing well with all this walking. What she wouldn't give for a real stimpack instead of this broc flower bullshit, but she had bastardized her only one to make the damn radscorpion sting in the first place. They moved slowly, and she pretended it was due to caution.

She didn't think of Vulpes. She had too many other things to focus on.

The nights were long, and for the first time, cold. Though maybe that was just in her mind.

The Daughters' knowledge of the area proved invaluable. Both of her scouts returned.

"There are more people at the river than would be expected," Yvana told her.

"El Tarahumara ellos se han unido. No me esperaba esto. Sus números crecen. Quinientos."

Yvana gave the scout -- Isabelle, Six thought -- a hard look. She looked sheepish. "Tarahumara join Lipans. Quin--- five. Five... many to fight us."

Five hundred tribals ready to fight her. She, with only thirty warriors, armed with machetes and spears, and the few guns they managed to keep from their time as Daughters of Hecate. Her Spartans had not been given the better munitions usually allocated to the higher Legion ranks. A suicide mission indeed. She reviewed Vulpes' notes. A plan for scouting; for picking off few enemies at the price of a Spartan per mission. A losing battle, even if the Lipans never found them. She didn't fault him. There weren't many options.

Of course, they could run. Caesar would probably have Vulpes send Frumentarii after them. With a sizeable force in a nearby, but unknown, location he probably wouldn't spare too many legionaries to find them if they disappeared. And Vulpes... She was relatively sure that he wouldn't send his best people. After the other night... but who could say? He had to look out for himself.

There was no point to running, anyway. There was nowhere to go. She stopped a cynical laugh from bubbling up. She didn't want to alarm her subordinates, but she couldn't help feeling like she was back in the Northern Passage. Time marched on, but the battles were the same; only on a larger scale.

Perhaps it was time for a new approach. She couldn't win this battle from the outside. It was impossible. If every one of her fighters was a crack shot with a sniper rifle, maybe she would try something else. But they weren't, and they only had Six's anti-materiel rifle for long distance, and not close to five hundred rounds anyway. If there was no victory from the outside, what was left?

Six spent hours discussing logistics with Yvana and Ruth. No one was happy with the plan, but no one could think of a better one.

They would feed themselves in, two or three at a time, so they were unthreatening. Claim to be escaped prisoners, more or less. Anti-Legion, in any case. Then, when there were twenty or so women inside, enough to carry out the mission, they would poison them.

\---

Yvana wanted to go first. Six didn't want her to, but she trusted her to get the story right. So she sent her, with only one other Spartan, bearing the news that after they had been sent out, they staged a coup, killed their Legion leader, and were now in disarray, appealing to the mercy of the Lipans in the face of a common enemy. Great plan.

If it were anyone else but Yvana, she would worry that that story would become more truth than fiction. As it was, she still worried. But there was nothing else to do but release small groups of Spartans at random intervals. Hoping, somewhat guiltily, that they followed her instructions like gospel.

Ruth was in the last group to go, and Six made a quick decision. It wasn't because she didn't trust her Spartans. More that she couldn't leave them to do this task alone. She deserved to be there if it went wrong, not hiding five miles away. She put Merrin in charge of the last eight or so women, telling her that if the plan didn't work, she should lead them anywhere she saw fit. What other instructions could she give in the face of this uncertainty?

Six felt like she was walking to her death as she travelled toward the Lipan camp, and so she considered many things. Most of them came with mixtures of regret. First, her failure at keeping her Spartans safe. The fact that they most likely would have been slaughtered by the Legion right off if she hadn't been there was not very comforting, as they were probably all about to die anyway. The countless people she had killed on her travels: the musician, a religious ghoul, a hapless couple who thought they were Bonnie and Clyde. Even Benny and Graham made an appearance on her mental list. Chalk. Selling Arcade into slavery to save Caesar's life, only to end up here, about to be killed, on purpose, in the line of Caesar's duty anyway. But she had tried to free him. That was a pleasant thought.

She then thought of the Divide, and Ulysses. All her roads. She still couldn't remember, still couldn't feel any real guilt over the destruction of Hopeville, but thinking of him led her to Andromeda, which led her back to Vulpes. Their last night together had not gone well. But, she allowed, it was better than with Chalk. Being close to people was to hurt them. It was better to push them away. She knew that now, as surely as she knew anything.

Thankfully, they soon reached the Lipan area. Two tribals came into view as they turned a corner, and they didn't attack. They welcomed. Maybe this would work, after all.

\---

Ruth was still lending her shoulder as they entered the camp. Six's leg would need at least a week before she could walk comfortably, maybe more. The woman explained in Spanish to their Lipan escort that there had been an encounter with a radscorpion. A familiar voice, one that sent shivers through her, said, "Not good, Iss. You are allergic to the cure, no?"


	10. Our Sins are Scarlet

 

Her ankles and wrists were bound tightly, and the uneven floor of the cave dug into her knees. Her thigh burned from sitting awkwardly on her feet.

Four men stared down at her. Two tribals with serious expressions. A man with a sniper rifle and NCR beret, whose face was completely blank.

And Chalk.

Smiling.

The shape of Chalk's smile was burned into her memory, every happy moment they ever shared. But this was not his smile. This smile was hard. This smile was evil. This wasn't the Chalk she met, it was the Chalk she created.

He was going to kill her.

She couldn't blame him, really.

A tribal, the older of the two men, spoke in quick Spanish to the other.

"Tell us of the Red Men's plan," the younger man translated. "Why are you trying to sneak into the camp with lies?"

"Hello, Chalk," Six said. "It's good to see you."

His unhinged smile fell, replaced by a momentary sneer of disgust, but it returned.

"Good to see you, too, Iss. I was looking for you a long time. We thought to capture you, but you came here freely. Some kind of luck, eh?"

"Cállate!" shouted the older man. "Responde la pregunta."

"Huimos del Red Men," she said quietly, cutting off the translator. "Buscamos seguridad."

The man raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"What did she say?" Chalk asked.

"They fled the men and seek security," the translator replied.

Chalk laughed. "She is a Legion killer, Etal," he said. "She is full of lies."

"Seven dice que ella es una mentirosa," Etal told the elder.

"Convencerla para decir la verdad, entonces. Me hallaréis, quando tienes algo," the elder said, then stalked out of the cave.

Chalk looked at Etal expectantly. The translator looked uncomfortable. "He says we must convince her to speak."

Chalk's grin grew. "Good. This is what I've been waiting for."

He walked around her, out of her field of vision. The two men watched him go. Six ran through plans in her head, but they were all useless. Chalk would never let the tribals believe anything she told them. He knew her too well, now, and he looked like he only had one thing on his mind. Revenge. She could empathize. Before she killed Benny, that was all she thought about.

She knew she probably deserved it, and if anyone had the right to kill her it was Chalk. She wasn't ready to give up and die, though. All those late nights, all her regrets rushing around her head, she always imagined that if Chalk found her she would let him do it. But now that it was happening, the animal instinct for survival was strong.

She heard steps behind her, and saw Etal, the translator, wince and turn his face away. She knew what was coming a moment before it happened.

At first she didn't feel anything, and she wondered if she had been wrong. She relaxed her muscles, and suddenly the pain hit her.

"This is what Legion does to traitors, is it not?" Chalk's voice was loud in her ear. "Forty lashes? I don't think I will stop at forty, though."

At first, her mind tried to keep track of how many times the whip scorched her back and arms, but she soon lost count. She closed her eyes tightly and all she could concentrate on was gritting her teeth to stop from making embarrassing noise.

She didn't know how much time passed before she became aware of the tribal standing near her.

"Don't interfere, Etal. We need to make her talk."

"Maybe she wants to talk now," he said, and knelt down next to her. He looked concerned. "Tell us, please. We do not want to hurt you, but we need to know."

Six wanted to laugh. Of course they wanted to hurt her. Chalk, anyway, and he was the one with the whip. But she couldn't think of a believable lie.

"Where are the other women?" she asked, voice cracking.

"They are contained."

"Are they being _questioned?"_ she spat.

"You are their leader, are you not? We ask you the questions."

Six tried to think. Something believable, something that wouldn't get her Spartans in any more trouble. But there wasn't anything. Even if her head wasn't swimming, and her back wasn't burning, and her leg wasn't throbbing, she doubted there was anything to say.

"Él me odia. Él quiere me hacer dolor . Él no se... preocupa por la lucha. Él va a matarme. No es importante qué lo digo," she finished quietly.

"What is she saying?" Chalk said.

Etal stared at her for a long moment, then looked up at Chalk. "She says... she says she escaped and came to us for safety, not for beating."

He scoffed. "She lies, Etal."

The man looked unsure. "You know her from before, you told us this. Maybe this is too personal for you. Maybe now you are wrong, Seven." Six didn't know if it would accomplish anything, but having the pity of this tribal was better than not having it.

"I'm not wrong," he said, voice angry. "I _do_ know her. She is a liar and a killer. Don't let her fool you."

Etal sighed heavily and stood. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I suppose you are right."

He turned away as Chalk began beating her again. Minutes later she heard him say, "You do not need me for this," and when next she opened her eyes he was gone. So much for that.

Chalk ripped through the tattered remains of her shirt to expose the skin of her back. Time moved slowly, but it felt like years. She could feel sweat, or more likely blood, soaking into the back of her pants. She could barely breathe for the pain. Her tightly closed mouth didn't stop her throat from whining. She could hear over the blood rushing in her ears the frenzied, angry sounds Chalk was making. He grew more frantic; his swings stronger and faster. Six, all reason lost, lurched forward and pitched onto her face in an effort to get away from the onslaught.

When she opened her bleary eyes she saw the NCR man holding Chalk's arm.

"You won't get anything out of her if she's dead," the man said.

"I don't care," Chalk spat. "She needs to suffer."

"You're losing it," he said quietly. Six was almost delirious, but her instincts kicked in and she strained to hear him. "This is what Legion does."

"Then it's exactly what she deserves. Eye for an eye, isn't that right, Eight? What do you care? You were ready to shoot her from the beginning."

"This is different. This is... torture."

"Do not get squeamish because she is a woman. She would do the same to you. She would sell anyone to slavery, just like your wife. Just like all of them."

The man was silent.

"No..." Six whispered, and coughed. "No, I wouldn't," she tried again. "I'm trying to stop slavery. That's why--"

"Stahp!" Chalk screamed. He kicked her hard in the side. "Shut your mouth! All that comes out is lies!"

Six wheezed and spat up blood. When she could open her eyes again, the NCR man had pulled Chalk away, his arm around Chalk's neck.

"Calm the fuck down. We need information. You lost your chance to kill her, at least for now." He released him, but watched him warily. "Why don't you go take a walk."

"It is not your place to deny me this, Boone," Chalk said quietly.

"I'm stopping you from killing a prisoner with important information. I'm doing you a favor. Now go cool down."

Chalk took one last angry look at the both of them, but when the NCR man put a hand meaningfully on his rifle, he stormed out.

The man crouched down by her and pulled her up to her knees by her shoulders.

"Please," she wheezed. "My leg. If I could just sit normally..."

He paused, but then leaned her over so she could swing her legs out from under her. She hissed as the muscle relaxed. After a few moments, though, the pain in her leg receded.

She coughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were playing good questioner, bad questioner. But Chalk isn't playing at anything."

"Chalk?"

"Yeah. Whatever. Seven, I guess he's calling himself now." She smiled wanly at him. "I'm trying not to be flattered."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"He won't be happy you embarrassed him in front of me. Guess who he'll take that out on."

He didn't say anything.

"First Recon, huh?" she tried. "Guess I found our sniper."

"You should just tell us what we want to know," he said shortly.

"Tell you what you want to hear, you mean," she said. "I already told you the truth."

"No, you didn't," he replied.

"Fair enough. Maybe not all of it. Those tribals, they wouldn't understand, anyway. You might," she said.

"Why me?"

"You're NCR, or at least used to be. You know the Legion." She waited for him to say something, but he didn't. "You know it isn't normal for them to have female warriors," she pressed.

"True," he allowed.

"That's because of me," she said, before coughing more blood onto her chin. She went to wipe it off before remembering her hands were still tied behind her. "I'm getting them to change their society. Well, I was. When I started talking about freeing the slaves, Caesar sent me on this stupid suicide mission."

"Tell me about the mission."

"There is no mission," she spat. "He sent us to get killed. I suppose he thought it might get you to reveal your location at the same time, but really he just wanted to be rid of me."

"So what are you doing here?"

"Nothing," she said bitterly. "He cast me out. I tried so hard... doesn't matter. We're nothing anymore. I'm nothing."

"Sounds like a lot of bullshit," he said.

Six laughed, or at least tried. She took a deep, shaky breath. "Yeah, it's much more likely Caesar thought thirty women could wipe out this entire tribe. That sounds like him." Boone didn't say anything. Man of few words. She gave him another weak smile. "You know this is the second time he sent me out to die? I never had a choice. I was just another slave. I don't know why I ever thought I wasn't. I don't know why I thought I could change anything." Six didn't even have to fake the tears that welled in her eyes.

Boone reached out and wiped the blood from her face.

"I think you're telling the truth," he said. He stood and walked to the entrance of the cave, then stopped. "But we all have to pay for our sins."

He left.

Six finally broke down completely and started to sob.

\---

She didn't know how long she was alone. Hours, at least. It was completely dark. She lay there, drifting in and out of consciousness. Sometimes, she dreamed. Short memories, images, as if her mind couldn't stop circling even in sleep.

_\--_

_Chalk catching potato chips in his mouth._

__

_Andy, squealing in delight at the gift of a toy car._

__

_A quiet river that grew loud and violent and red, bursting through its dam._

__

_A ghostly Arcade, tied by a string to a genie's lamp._

__

_Joshua Graham, skin rotting and bloated with water, playing a guitar on the side of the road._

__

_Her hands, covered in blood. It was Caesar's blood. She reached out to Vulpes, a smile on her face. His brows furrowed over his blue eyes._ Come with me _, she said, laughing._ Let's start our own Legion _._

\--

She was woken by a sound. She opened her eyes. Chalk was sitting next to her, an electric lantern on the floor next to him. She wondered vaguely where he got batteries.

The lantern was dim, and she couldn't make out his face very well in the shadows it threw.

"Good job convincing them you don't know anything, Iss," he said. "I know you are still lying, but I don't care about their war. And they don't care what happens to you anymore."

"Suppose--" she coughed violently. Her throat felt like hot asphalt. "Suppose saying I'm sorry again wouldn't change anything."

"It would only be another lie."

"No, it wouldn't."

She could make out the grim spectre of a smile. "No, it wouldn't change anything."

Six wondered if she could somehow choke him with the rope around her wrists and escape. She tried to roll over and the screaming protests from her back and arms shot that idea down before it got anywhere. Even if she managed to overpower him and... kill him... she would never be able to escape as exhausted and injured and dehydrated as she was.

She managed to sit up without whimpering. She looked over at Chalk. "So what happens now? Kill me? Or just hurt me some more?"

"I don't know," Chalk said quietly. "It is not enough. I don't know how to hurt you enough."

Six didn't know what to say to that.

"I thought of killing all your women in front of you. I think that would hurt you. But I don't know, maybe it would not."

"It would hurt you to do that," she said softly.

He laughed bitterly, but didn't speak.

"I know you hate me. You have every right," she said quickly, "I betrayed you. But I always cared about you. I never wanted to hurt you."

"Stop with your lies," he whispered.

"They aren't lies." He didn't contradict her. A small bubble of hope rose in her. "I am so sorry for all the pain I've caused you. I shouldn't have killed Graham, I know that now," she lied, "and I shouldn't have taken you with me afterward," she said truthfully. "But I did that because I care about you." That fell somewhere in the middle.

She felt guilty about lying, as she felt guilty about every lie. Her leg burned for Arcade, and her back throbbed for Chalk, and she was exhausted thinking about everyone else. But in the knowledge of her likely death, and the even higher likelihood of more pain, she didn't spare the guilt much thought. She didn't want to die. Maybe Chalk deserved his peace, but as long as he was prevaricating, she would try her damnest. Besides, who could say that he wouldn't get more peace by letting her go? He wasn't a violent soul. He shouldn't be. And maybe that was selfish rationalization, but she didn't really have time for navel gazing.

He still wasn't speaking, or looking at her. She started to panic a little. "I was raised by tribals. I didn't know, I couldn't remember it. I only found out after..." She knew she was babbling, but she couldn't stop. "Maybe that's why I got stuck on you. You reminded me of myself, even though I couldn't remember. You wanted to explore--"

"I am nothing like you!" he shouted. He stood up quickly, delivering a sharp kick to her injured leg. She cried out in pain and fell to her side. "Nothing!" He left the cave, knocking over the lantern as he went.

She stared at the dim light as her vision blurred with tears. It rolled a little before coming to a stop against a rock. Both of them, kicked and beaten and topsy-turvy.

The light flickered and went out.

\---


	11. In the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning.

 

Logically, Six was in the cave for five days. Her mind was not so far gone that she missed the rising and setting of the sun. But it felt like years. It felt like an eternity. At times, it felt like the only life she'd ever known, and her memories were only dreams.

Chalk had tried the whip on her again a few times, but he stopped quickly. The last time, she thought she heard a choked sob before he fled the cave. Now he just sat a few feet away and stared blankly at the wall. She tried to speak to him sometimes, but he was much more likely to kick her if she was talking, so she fell into silence as well.

This quiet, dejected Chalk was troubling her. At least when he was violent she could imagine escape scenarios, even if none of them would work. But she knew she wouldn't be able to leave this cave without killing him. He may not be sure what to do with her now that he had her, but she bet that wouldn't stretch to letting her walk away. And now that he wasn't whipping her anymore, the thought of killing him filled her with all the old guilt.

The sniper walked quickly into the cave and crouched down next to Chalk.

"There's something wrong with the tribals," he said urgently. "All of them. Some are collapsing, unconscious, some are throwing up, some are raving. They might get dangerous. Some kind of sickness. We should get out of here."

Chalk didn't look at him, just stared at the wall. Six tried not to smile. Her Spartans were succeeding.

Etal stumbled in after him. He had vomit on his clothing. "The river. It is poisoned. Don't drink the water! Don't touch it! Ricin. So much. They must have spoiled it further up river." He held out a shaking arm, pointing at Six. "Part of her plan. Must be."

He collapsed onto his knees, dry heaving, then fell motionless to the ground.

The sniper turned to look at her, and she didn't school her expression fast enough. He unholstered a 10MM pistol. "Time to pay up, Courier."

"No," said Chalk. The sniper stared at him. Chalk stood up and held out his hand. "Let me."

He gave him the weapon. Chalk fingered it for a few moments, as though seeing a pistol for the first time.

"Go," he told his partner.

The man hesitated. Outside, shots began to ring out. 

"The Legion are come," he said quietly. "Go find your peace."

The man put a hand on Chalk's shoulder. "Find yours too, brother."

Chalk continued to stare down at the gun as the sniper left.

"Hurting you isn't enough," he told her. "No matter how much of your blood I spill, Joshua is still dead. I am still betrayed. You are right that I cannot kill your women to bring you pain. It is wrong, and it would hurt me too much to do so. Destroying your Legion, I thought I wanted that. But they are not part of this. It is just you and me, Iss. But killing you... killing you. That would just end your suffering." He closed his eyes. "So what is left for me?" he asked softly.

"Chalk..." she said carefully. She wasn't sure what was happening, but she was uneasy. She didn't like this attitude, she didn't like how he was staring at the pistol as if it were salvation. "Let's talk about this..."

He ignored her. "I hope you are telling the truth, Iss. I hope you do care for me. Maybe then this will bring you pain."

He raised the gun to his temple.

"Chalk, _no!_ " She strained against her bonds and fell to her face.

A loud crack echoed off the cave walls, along with another sound. A high-pitched, keening siren. Were her eardrums blown out?

His body fell to the ground next to her. She opened her eyes and saw his face. She choked off a sob and the keening noise stopped. One eye was open, staring at her. Light brown iris almost completely swallowed by a huge, dilated pupil. The other side of his face... well. He got his wish. It would surely haunt her the rest of her days.

She lay, sobbing, in the growing pool of Chalk's blood. Her mind wasn't racing anymore. She felt no panic. No fear. Not even sadness, for all her tears. She felt nothing.

\---

Her women came to her. Yvana kneeled next to her in the blood, pushing the matted hair from her face. Someone, Merrin, Six thought, cut the rope around her wrists and ankles. What a picture, she thought wildly. What a Goddess I am now.

_Just leave me. Leave me be._ She didn't speak to them. She couldn't.

Her body was weak. They carried her, she didn't know where. She didn't want to go anywhere. Everyone's road came to an end. In her head, she was still in a cave with Chalk. She thought of Ulysses. He had stopped walking his road. What a comfort that must be. After some time, they lowered her into a shallow stream. Someone removed her pants and the blood-soaked rag of a shirt from her body and washed her gently. She was laid onto a blanket on the ground. She could feel someone rubbing something into the gnarled gashes on her back. It hurt, but at the same time, it didn't really matter. It felt like atonement. It couldn't hurt enough. They should have left her.

She lost track of time. It might have been minutes, hours, days. She didn't know. She didn't even think about it. She simply existed.

And Chalk didn't.

\---

_Chalk threw a potato chip at her. She missed. She was confused, and frustrated. How long had they been doing this? She missed all of them. "I'm not good at this, Chalk," she said._

_"It's no problem," Chalk laughed. He scooted up to her and pressed a chip against her lips. "I just have to get closer to you."_

_She smiled._

\---

_"What is this?" she asked._

_"Some roads are pavement. Some roads are paint. Some roads you make yourself," Ulysses told her._

_She looked down at the path in front of her. It was outlined in chalk._

_"But what if it rains?" she protested. "It will wash away."_

_"Walk the road, Courier. It's all you can do."_

_She looked back and the outline was gone, but she left footprints of bright white._

_\---_

_"Don't you ever shut up?" Vulpes yelled at her. "Maybe this will make you be quiet."_

_He raised the pistol to his temple._  

_\---_

_A quiet river that grew large and violent and red. It broke through its dam._

\---

"Qué si ella nunca despertarse?"

"She will wake," a harsh voice replied.

"Qué si la Diosa dejó?"

"She _is_ the Goddess. And she will wake."

\---

_"The force is too large," Yvana said. "We will not win."_

_Six disagreed. This had all happened already. "We can win," she said. "The Goddess wills it. We just need a sacrifice."_

_She had a toy car in her hand. She held it out to Andromeda. "Come here, Andy. I have a present for you."_

_The car was covered in blood, but the girl took it with a delighted smile._

_\---_

_"It's just rain, Iss," Chalk said comfortingly._

_She was scared of the storm, but Chalk was warm with her inside the sleeping pouch. She put her arms around him._

_"Can I kiss you?" she asked._

_"Tomorrow," he said. "That's for tomorrow."_

_\---_

_Arcade, on a cross. Chalk, on a cross. Vulpes. Yvana. Ruth. Graham. Benny. Oliver. Andromeda. Caesar. Crosses as far as the eye could see. Six had a handful of nails._

\---

_"What do you say, Iss? Will you travel with me?"_

_Six smiled and nodded. Graham waved farewell as they made their way north out of the Utah. Toward freedom._

\---

After some amount of time, she felt something again. Something stirring in her heart. How fitting her first emotion would be guilt.

Her women were all waiting for her. Chalk wasn't the only one she was indebted to, after all. Others still had claims.

If only they had left her in the cave. What a blessing that would have been. A chance to stop walking. But now, the road was in front of her again. She gathered her physical and mental strength, then pushed herself up into a seated position.

"Ah! La Diosa!"

"I'm fine," she mumbled as they rushed to her. "I'm fine."

She looked around at the women. Their faces were worried, their clothes were dirty and some were bloody. But they were here. They were alive.

"Yvana," she said briskly. Or, tried to. She started coughing immediately. Yvana came to her with water that she drank down greedily.

"Yvana," she said again. "Status report."

"Nine Spartans dead, sir. Enemy is all dead. The Lipans and four hundred Tara. There are surely still Tara moving into the area, but they are few and have no one to join."

"Who of us died?" Six looked around. "Ruth? Where is Ruth?"

Yvana bowed her head. "Ruth is dead. Isabelle, Mercedes, Marie, Sophia, Luci, Emma, Paula, and Emily. Some died in battle. Some died... we couldn't be warned that the river was poisoned. There was no way to contact us. Merrin had scouts watching, she saw that we were captured. She poisoned the river. Lucky for us, there were too many for the small river, anyway. We weren't given much water."

Six processed this. "Merrin, you poisoned the river? That wasn't your orders."

Merrin bowed her head. "I thought--"

"You thought right. It was a great plan. Why didn't you say it before we all walked into capture?"

"I didn't think of it, Trivia. We saw you captured and circled the camp. I found another large growing of castor beans to the south. Enough to poison the river."

"Well, excellent job," Six said. Merrin blushed, but looked pleased. "I think that will warrant a promotion."

"After most of the tribe was sick, we broke from our guards and took their weapons," continued Yvana. "It was easy, then."

Six smiled weakly at them. "You have all done very well. Even I was unsure of our success, but you have conquered unbeatable odds. You should all be proud of yourselves."

"We heard the guards talking," Jonas burst in from behind the other women. "How you would not speak, though you were being hurt. We heard your screams. But you did not stop. You gave us hope."

Six didn't even remember screaming. She was embarrassed to know they heard her, that they knew she beaten, helpless. Embarrassed that a pregnant woman she was supposed to protect had to fight to rescue her. But none of them looked ashamed, even after she spent the last however many days lying despondent. They still trusted her. They still believed in her.

She swallowed down on the lump in her throat. She nodded to Jonas, then turned to Yvana. "We must speak alone," she said thickly, trying to keep tears at bay.

Yvana cleared the women away as efficiently as she did everything.

"Sorry, I just need a minute," Six said.

Yvana nodded crisply and kneeled down next to her, head bowed. She waited while Six cried.

"Sorry," she said again. "I just -- I'm so proud. Of all of you. I thought -- I thought I was going to die in that cave. I thought we were all going to die."

"We will always fight for you, sir," Yvana said.

"Let me ask you, Yvana," she said slowly. "Do all the Spartans think that I am a goddess?"

Yvana hesitated. "Many do, sir. Some of them... they just want something to believe in. Someone to believe in."

Six hesitated. "What do you believe?"

"I believe," Yvana started, then stopped. "I believe you are worth believing in," she said simply.

Before she could choke up again she turned back to business. "We need to send out some scouts. See what the rest of the Legion is doing. Has that happened yet?"

Yvana nodded. She, too, looked relieved to leave the heavy subject behind. "They have stayed in their position. Some of their scouts were seen at the Lipan camp yesterday, but we did not make contact with them. I thought it best to wait for your orders."

"That's fine," Six said. "We will go to them. You're sure all the Lipans and Tara are dead?"

"Our scouts haven't seen survivors. If any escaped from the camp, they will be few. And any Tara that were still making their way to the camp will also be in small groups, more likely one at a time. They do not run together."

"Then we can start moving soon."

\---

Six's leg was worse for the wear after five days in bondage, and her back and arms ached terribly. Some of the Spartans built a sedan chair from tree limbs and woven vines. It made Six very uncomfortable. But then, so did walking. And if she walked, she would hold the group up more than if they were carrying the litter.

And for some reason, they were just so happy when she sat in it. She knew, logically, that if Chalk hadn't killed himself he would likely have been killed by the Spartans, or by the poisoned water, or by the Legion. He wasn't her only casualty. In this battle alone, her thirty women had killed eight hundred tribals. But she still felt like her success was bought with his blood.

\---

She made them abandon the chair when they reached the camp. She walked in herself, slowly and stiff-backed, straight to Caesar's tent.

The look on his face was almost as good as when she came back from the Utah.

"I assume the Frumentarii already told you the tribal camp is destroyed," she said as an opener.

"Yes," he said. Then he laughed. "Damn, Six. You sure deliver."

"Over eight hundred tribals, and only nine casualties. I suppose I do."

He gave her a strange look. "Why can't I just kill you and be done with this?"

She smiled back at him. "Perhaps I, too, am favored by the gods, son of Mars."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm beginning to think you are."

"Perhaps they are trying to tell you something. Maybe that I am a person worth listening to."

He eyed her suspiciously. She knew Vulpes would rail at her for this conversation, but she didn't care. She thought she was going to die in a cave not long ago, had wanted to, and the thought of returning to a life where Caesar viewed her as a novel, but ultimately unimportant, piece on his chess board was appalling. It was time to go all in.

"Perhaps you are. What is it your Spartans call you?"

"Trivia, Caesar."

"Is that who you are? Goddess of the ghosts?"

She smiled sadly. "Perhaps I am."

He was quiet for a time. "Such a minor goddess. Would you like to claim Diana instead? Minerva?"

She shook her head. What a strange conversation. Not at all what she expected when she came here. But that was Caesar.

"We don't chose our names," she said. "I am not the goddess of wisdom, nor the hunt. If I am anything, goddess of ghosts is what I am. After all," she said, only slightly sarcastically, "you didn't chose Mars, Mars chose you. Right?"

Instead of answering, he took in her appearance. She was wearing one of her Spartan's shirts, but her pants were still torn and no amount of rinsing in the river could get rid of the blood. The injury to her thigh was unbandaged and she was leaning on a stick for support.

"You have exceeded my expectations once again. You and your women. I would be a fool if I didn't accept the truth laid out before me. I never thought..." He shook his head. "You should be treated for your injuries. We will talk more, later." He cocked his head to the side. "But be comforted in the knowledge that your place in the Legion is secure."

She wondered, as Yvana walked with her to Arcade, if he was frightened of her.

\---


	12. Ghosts and Crossroads

 

"These are going to leave nasty scars. You should have come to me right away," Arcade admonished.

She looked at him for a moment, mouth open, before she realized he was teasing her. "I was a bit busy," she said. Then quietly added, "And I think the scars are probably deserved."

Arcade paused as he applied antiseptic. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

She looked up at him. She hadn't told him that she ignored his warnings about Chalk in the past. And she didn't want to tell the whole story yet. She might never be able to do that, so she just said, "The past leaves scars. Seems right."

"Alright, keep your secrets," he said.

She smiled at him. "Just another reminder to always follow your advice."

He sighed and sat down next to her. "Thank you, Six."

"For what?"

"For what," he repeated drily. "For trying to free me. I know that mission he sent you on was punishment. Supposed to be suicide. You knew you were risking your life for me, in more than one way. So, thank you."

"Welcome, I guess." Six shrugged, then hissed as her wounds stretched. "It didn't work."

"It's the thought that counts."

"Yeah," she said blankly. Suddenly, she did want to tell him. She wanted to tell him everything. Arcade always knew best. So she did.

\---

"Well, it makes sense. If you're a little crazy, which it sounds like he was. If he killed you, he would still have to live with the pain. So he killed himself. Now you live with it. Perfect revenge, if, like I said, you're crazy."

"But I did that," Six said. "I made him crazy."

"Suicide is never..." Arcade trailed off. Instead he said, "Yeah. You did. What will you do now?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I've sort of been running on autopilot. There's still stuff going on. People I'm responsible for. But it feels like I'm disrespecting him again. Just by living."

"Well. That's kind of true."

"Thanks."

"But again, what will you do?" he asked. "Kill yourself? Give up on your goals? It seems like at this point you still have a lot of bad karma to make up for. The only way to set it right is to keep moving forward."

"Right," she said blankly. "How many slaves do I need to free to make up for Chalk's life?"

Arcade sighed heavily, and cleaned his glasses on his shirt before placing them back on his face. "I don't know, Six. All of them. As many as you can."

He smiled at her. She smiled back. She missed this Arcade. The one that didn't hate her. If Arcade stopped hating her, she must be making right decisions. Or at least better ones. He reached out as if to put a hand on her shoulder then pulled it back, remembering her wounds.

"Just do the best you can," he said. "There was a long time I was worried, Six. I thought you only cared about yourself. Honestly though, going by the evidence, I can't really be faulted for reaching that conclusion." Six rolled her eyes. "But you really stuck your neck out for me, with no gain for yourself; only harm. I think you've come a long way. You could let the guilt of this consume you. I know by now that you like the sound of poetic justice. _Or,_ you could deal with it and try to keep doing good work. Poetry is for books. It's for people who can't help any other way. I mean, if you decide not to demolish this atrocious society with your fearsome goddess powers, the least you can do is fix it."

She laughed. "I can't even fix myself. Maybe I _should_ just write a book. Sounds easier." At his look she sobered, and asked quietly, "You... do you think I can?"

"You know, Six? I actually do." He poked at her leg. "Unfortunately, I don't think your fearsome goddess powers will work on regenerating this thigh muscle. You might have a permanent limp."

"Well, you always were a thorn in my side. Might as well make it literal."

\---

Six crutched her way over to where her Spartans were setting up camp. Yvana met her and led her to a tent. She wasn't irritated that they put her bedroll in the biggest tent, the one usually used for briefings. Her whole body ached and she just wanted to lay down.

\---

A few mornings later she strolled slowly through the camp with Caesar, relying heavily on her stick. Arcade said it was good for her leg to keep moving, but it still ached. They discussed logistics for a while. The Tarahumara tribals who were late reaching the Lipan camp had been scooped up and were assimilating relatively easily when faced with a thousand trained soldiers. It would be good for the Legion, if the Tara could be trusted. They had the fastest messengers she'd ever seen. The sniper hadn't been found. Six didn't know if that meant he was killed by her Spartans or if he'd escaped and was laying low. The man had looked hardy.

"I want to tell you something, Six," Caesar said.

"Go ahead, Caesar," she replied.

He gave her a look, but he did not correct her on her decorum.

"When I started out, I was a Follower. Of the Apocalypse," he began.

"You've said."

"I considered myself a learned man. I was interested in the old books, but I didn't believe in any religions. When I started to build my society, I chose Rome as a template, and thus the Roman Gods. I chose Mars, the god of war, as my symbol. I didn't believe..." He fell silent as a legionary drew near to them. At Caesar's expression, he veered and changed course. "But then I started winning," he continued. "Some battles I won at extreme odds. Much like yours. I started to wonder if maybe... Maybe I called out to Mars and he answered me." He glanced at her, then back in front of him. "I know you chose Trivia because it fit easily into the Daughters of Hecate's own religion. But I wonder if that act didn't call her down to you, or up to you in Trivia's case, as perhaps I called Mars to me."

Even Caesar thought she had godly powers now. What was the world coming to?

She glanced over at him.

She wasn't really in a rush to dissuade him, though. If he thought she spoke with the authority of a godly being, he would likely listen to her more.

It made her a little sick to think how quickly she was falling back into her old life. Chalk's blood still coated her hands in her dreams each night. But this was the path to a better world. It was her duty. She believed that unequivocally, even if she was ambivalent about the deities.

"Many of the old texts show testimony of gods answering mortals when requested. If we accept those books as truth, who can say?" she replied.

"Who can say," he repeated. "Arcade tells me there is no evidence. That the books, and the gods, are only a story. But he only accepts truth that can be measured. Just because we can't measure it doesn't mean it's false." She nodded. He sighed. "Doesn't mean it's true, either."

They reached the edge of the camp and stopped walking. She looked over at him again. He looked uncertain. And he looked tired. Six could empathize with that. "Our lives are roads, Caesar. We chose the one that looks best, and we walk."

He grinned at her. "Trivia, goddess of the crossroads."

Indeed.

\---

She had been avoiding Vulpes' area of the camp. He must know she was back, but he hadn't sought her out. Probably because of how badly she reacted the last time they were together. Perhaps he was embarrassed. Perhaps he was just giving her space. She felt strangely calm after her chat with Caesar, though, and she felt it was time to talk to him.

She pushed back the flap of his tent and entered, leaning on her walking stick.

He glanced at her, then back down to his papers. "I hear Caesar is ready to elevate you to the level of the god-born. It seems you are incomprehensibly good at suicide missions. Or bad at them, I suppose."

"I didn't really do anything," she said, lowering herself carefully onto his bedroll. "It was my Spartans."

"Getting comfortable? I thought you were staying in the women's camp now."

"Give me a break, my whole body hurts," she said, without heat.

He still didn't look at her. "Then, by all means, make use of my furnishings. One can't resist the will of the gods."

She ignored that. "I just wanted to see you. See how you're doing."

He paused in his writing. "I suppose I'm to believe that you care."

"How well do you know me?" she asked.

He turned to face her. "Not as well as I thought. Why are you really here?"

She fingered the gauze around her leg. "I wanted to apologize." He didn't say anything. "I said some terrible things after you -- after we... well. I was scared."

He raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose being scared is justification for telling me I am an imbecilic rapist whose sociopathic tendencies will lead me to die alone?"

She looked down and blushed. "I didn't say _that._ "

"I paraphrased for brevity's sake."

She continued to fidget with her bandages. "I don't like to get close to people," she said quietly. "The last person I... he just killed himself in front of me. Because he wanted to hurt me. Because I fucked him up that much." She looked over at Vulpes. "And he was relatively normal before he met me. Just think what would happen to us."

His eyes were wide. "Who killed themselves?"

"Chalk."

"Your tribal -- he was at that camp?"

She nodded.

Vulpes looked utterly flummoxed. If it weren't for the despair that rose when thinking about Chalk, she might have laughed.

"Don't worry. You don't have to say anything about it. There isn't anything to say." She hoped he would take the hint, and not try to _find_ something to say. "I'm just explaining why. Why I don't think it's a good idea for me to... be close to anyone."

He turned away. "I respect that. In fact, I am pleased you feel that way. It was a moment of weakness, that is all. I didn't mean anything by it."

"Well, good, then."

"Yes. Good."

Neither of them spoke for a while. There wasn't much left to say about that.

But the silence was uncomfortable, and Six longed to break it. "I think I might retire. Go live in Flagstaff."

He stared at her. "You're leaving?"

"Not now. Have to make sure this whole Spartan thing works out. I just lost a third of my people. Who knows what crap Caesar would pull if I weren't around to stop him? Plus, I think I might be able to convince him to do something about the slaves, in a while." She paused, considering. "But I have been thinking about it the past few days. I think I'd like to retire. I think I'd be good at that."

He snorted. "Good at what? Doing nothing?"

"Might take up gardening," she said airily. "Or breeding dogs." She eyed him. "Maybe it's time to stop back through _Primm_."

He looked away. "We're not ready."

"No. But in a few months? A year?" she asked. "I'm Trivia now. People listen to me. I think changes will be happening quickly."

"I remember when you hated the idea that people thought you were more than human."

"And I remember when you told me I shouldn't throw away what the gods give me."

"My, my. Are you religious now, Six?"

"No," she said, laying down on the bedroll. She shifted onto the side with her good leg. "But you can't measure everything." She was paraphrasing her earlier conversation with Caesar, but it had been a good one, and Vulpes wouldn't know. "You can't measure _any_ of the important things, really." She yawned. "You just keep moving, and you hope it's the right direction."

"Very profound." He looked over and saw her laying down. "Is my bed the right direction?" He grinned wickedly, but Six didn't think his heart was in it. Not the wicked part, at least.

"Shut up. My leg hurts. Don't be a dick." She closed her eyes.

He chuckled. He extinguished the light and she felt him lay down next to her. He left space behind her still-tender back.

\---

 


End file.
